Seasoned
Seasoned homeless men in olive-green and black
camouflage jackets,
whisker-stubbled faces,
fatigued eyes once of youth's brightness.
They not too long ago raised their hand to
swear the oath,
in the shelter kitchen are many bustling
volunteers.
Brewed creamy coffee warms the grateful
men's throats.
The Catholic church across the city street tolls,
it's resounding bells in chilled autumnal air,
a knell of hope.
Honeycomb paper turkey decorations on the
center of long cafeteria tables.
A hurting truth about America, our country,
is our homeless veterans.
They served, they suffer.
A Thanksgiving for the exhausted-
and, often, unthanked. ~
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