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Poem

This morning I stumbled out of bed and stood at rigid attention!
(I thought I'd had a nightmare and had lost my military pension!)
A familiar strain wafted across the valley and swirled about my ears.
'Twas the "Reveille" bugle call, a sound I hadn't heard in years!

The sound came from nearby Fort Carson since the wind was just so.
(I recalled my warrior days rising at dawn to earn my meager dough!)
I pictured in my mind the bewilderment of the young and raw recruits,
Cussing the bugler, gathering up their gear and pulling on their boots!

At noon the bugle called, "Come and get your chow, boys! Come and get your chow!"
(My grub was slopped on a battered steel tray - troopers dine off china now!)
That's just the way it was - I'm happy for them tho' - they deserve the best!
For their devotion to duty and firm resolve, we are truly blessed!

At five o'clock, the bugler sounded "Retreat" to end another day.
The garrison flag was slowly lowered, folded and stowed away.
The cannon boomed - its thundering boom reverberated about the post.
Every soldier stood proud and tall and saluted the flag, totally engrossed!

The haunting notes of "Taps" sound at ten o'clock then fade away and die,
As sleeping soldiers are assured, "All is well, safely rest, God is nigh."
How I relish the dulcet bugle calls echoing from across the way;
I wouldn't object if the wind would blow my way each and every day!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(©All Rights Reserved)

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