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. ~