They March at Dawn
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They march at dawn when the world still sleeps—
when the streets are empty and the birds are early—
they march with the weight of everything we are
and they carry it quietly and surely.
We will not see them do the day's work—
the long patrol, the watchfulness, the cold—
but we will live inside the peace they purchase
with the brave, the young, the presently enrolled.
When you wake tomorrow in your safety,
think for one quiet moment of the one
who stood through the night in someone else's name
so the morning could arrive, and be undone.
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They march at dawn when the world still sleeps—
when the streets are empty and the birds are early—
they march with the weight of everything we are
and they carry it quietly and surely.
We will not see them do the day's work—
the long patrol, the watchfulness, the cold—
but we will live inside the peace they purchase
with the brave, the young, the presently enrolled.
When you wake tomorrow in your safety,
think for one quiet moment of the one
who stood through the night in someone else's name
so the morning could arrive, and be undone.
