John F. McCullagh
The call went out
It meant one thing.
Death in the line of duty
and Grown men weep
at the loss of youth and beauty.
The empty locker,
The ownerless gear,
silence that is a presence.
Brave Liam lies dead.
The fireman’s friend
Pity the parents their loss
The ownerless toys,
The master less pets,
How to make sense of it all?
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (5-5-5-5 by John F. McCullagh )
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