My grandfather's father, Yank drummer boy,
thought that the war was a picnic basket
until he heard the Johnny Reb's war cry
and took when they let him the B&O
back home to bury his one tin soldier
discovered later by spit polished boys
leaving the dirt and tarnish to make it
the bad guy who fought with their GI Joes.
And I remember some Beaver Cleaver
who once played Sousa on his toy bugle
draped with a '69 star spangled flag
after a one bag carry on red eye
flight to a Dover Delaware hangar
to wait for the final sleeping car home.
Inspired by Angeline's "Kate Smith Talks Back to the Mirror"