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Friday, February 12, 2016

Donahue Field

We name Little League parks
and street-corners after you
(for whom the honour
seems too small a thing)
but few take notice of it:
relatives, friends, the VFW.
Still, I often walk past your plaque
at Donahue Field, Lieutenant,
and I pray for you every time,
killed in action, aged twenty-seven,
half a world away from home
the week of Christmas 1969.

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