Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Dust of Jarama

These boots bear the dust of Jarama.
In the grain of their leather
Lie the ashes of ideals.
I will not polish them away.

No shine could make them mean more
To scrub off history is not to improve
But to forget those who lived and died a truth
I will not polish them away.

Children raised without fathers
That died in Spain for what was right
Should not be erased from our minds
I will not polish them away

These boots bear the dust of Jarama
That dust is borne with pride.

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