Beaches
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Not a new poem, republished as I deleted it in error
Children frolic in soft, warm sand.
Upon which, long ago, a band
of brothers gave their lives to free
a country held in tyranny;
Omaha, Utah, each, as planned.
Gold, Juno, Sword, a bloody land.
Lives stolen far from their homeland.
Where once blood stained the sand and sea,
children frolic.
What impulse makes a person stand,
give everything; such pain withstand?
Raw sacrifice, so you and we,
new generations can now see
beaches; where families love; and
children frolic.
Copyright © Terry Miller | Year Posted 2022
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