25 April 2012




Won’t be attending Dawn Parade, not for
lack of belief, nothing makes this occasion
less than unique – to not think of the boys
who laid down their lives at dawn this day
demeans the purity of their sacrifice

But to prove my fidelity only by being in a
crowd at dawn won’t make me more clearly
committed or less grateful; there are many
ways to say thank you but none is better
than ably embracing our true freedom

For that I give thanks; knowing what dawn
meant as a soldier tells me I do not break
ranks or show disloyalty, uniformed peers
who shared the same agree on sanctuary
of a clear and unrestrained conscience

Every dawn that wakes me to the world we
live in confirms my memories, they remain
cogent and clear between these esteemed
anniversaries, a contiguous consciousness
of what was and will not go away

Pardon me, I won’t see you at dawn today,
perhaps later, a rum or two mellifluously
easing old soldier aches and pains, a yarn
reminisced loquaciously over, an old bone
we can still chew
© 25 April 2012, I. D. Carswell