COMBAT BOOTS

Empty boots line the tarmac

Standing paired, missing their feet.

Some sparkle, proudly festooned

With ornamental valor hung in laces.

Opposite, rows of silently weary men

Stand in boots like martial crosses

Aligned and whitewashed in stone gardens

Cultivated by politicians.

Bugle cries keening,

Tired salutes fall.

Happy boots snap click heels

Glad to have their feet within.