A Light at the End of the Hallway

I walk the darkened bunker walls

where lockers line the way

down the endless straight-wide tall

as last at end of day

I close the door to leave for home.

And there it shines—just at the end

a light and shadow splotch

that seems a little fire glow

a sentry keeping watch

a bit of life not yet gone home.

I hear a jaunty whistle-tune

and rumble of the wheels

as the single man platoon

cleans the bathroom mirrors.

for students gone. At home.

The whistle sounds epiphany

the realization bright

society’s polyphony

plays in tune and right

because some soldiers don’t go home

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