My dad was an army medic.
He took us to see parades.
Ramrod straight in their uniforms
soldiers in the heat of the sun.
The biggest parade once training is done,
is the one they call 'Passing Out'.
The top brass all come and families too.
Then all spic and span with buttons so bright.
They'd march to the military band.
Then all at attention in the sun,
They would stand and be inspected.
but alas some would get wilt.
They'd get faint they'd fall and the medics
would have to retrieve them.
The funny thing is in the minds of we kids
we thought that's what 'Passing Out' meant
So the reason we all went to see them.
YOU ARE READING
Second Wind
PoetryHighest rank #12 in Poetry Second Wind is an eclectic collection of mostly light hearted poems but often has a serious message and takes the occasional side swipe at politicians and those in power.
