A guarded and gated world
of I.D. cards, base patrols, uniforms olive green;
military with its rule and rank, snappy salutes
planes always on the radar screen.
Still, a young mind could hardly be prepared
when ALL base sirens suddenly blared.
Airmen on alert ran wild and scared;
communications ceased except to planes in the air.
Innocence died with a President that day;
a nation's colors turned to shades of grey.
It was the 60's; none could believe
all we could do was watch it unfold and grieve.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem