Lyle McLeod

(San Jose, New Mexico)

Face Of War

Oh, where go the children of each generation
Whose innocence played at the bordering nation?
Smiles and laughter each little face wore,
But must they change - to the face of war?

We may dream of the hero from trojan shore,
Or, perhaps the mongol in Asian Lore,
Somewhere, distorted, twixt bravery and fear.
Our eyes we shut, - nothing is clear.

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