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by Donna F. Miller
The airport lounge was crowded
With all the holiday mob.
The little one's toy was broken.
We could hear the child sob.
A soldier was approaching.
The child stopped and stared.
We turned and watched him come
And silence filled the air.
The salute the child gave him
Was carefully returned
Though home was around the corner
For which the soldier yearned.
We all stood and applauded.
Our cheers were clear and loud.
A fine young man returning.
Of him we all were proud.


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