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Johnny Came Marching Home
A book written by Dalton Trumbo
was assigned as class reading
one summer session-
much of it read aloud
by the teacher.
A sweltering classroom
windows open
to summer sun
and sharp
crack of bat-
high school athletes
in full vigor,
running bases
and catching
pop flies!
Perhaps it was the teacher's
voice that involved us
as we identified with
the young soldier's
plight.
Whatever it was worked!
*I can't hear. My left arm!
I wonder what they've done with it!
He had no arms and no legs.
He was blind. It wasn't a dream.
Jesus, Joe there must be some other way! *
All the time the teacher read
we could hear the players
outside chattering away
as they ran and scored runs!
Dust motes in afternoon sunlight
seemed alive.
Then the bell rang
and we sat stunned
Our summer was almost over!
poem
by
Michael Pruchnicki
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