The strawberry fields
once thrilled us all
Those stars and stripes helped us heal
but now I know you know
when it’s a dream
so don’t you agree
it’s time to disagree?

Are you not sad
his star has dimmed
standing tall
after nine-one-one
warning that world
and stilling our fear
now fumbling for something
which can’t be won?

Please Mr. President, America shouts
"we've had enough”
this veteran doubts
who served another of our country's woe
I ache for son’s and daughters now
fighting for your own quid pro quo
we can't allow a label like
“baby killer” again to grow

The Rumsfelds define
my words a crime
and though trite “history does repeat itself" in time
I lead you to
"Eleven Lessons"
may McNamara's yoke
allow you to see
"belief and seeing
are both often wrong"

I pray this poem
I sorely write
from "lessons" another
Rumsfeld notes
of that darkened Asian fight
you’ll see your own
fog of war
burn away
then again
you shall see the light

04/07/2007

Author's Note: Read to the melody of Strawberry Fields. This is a rewrite of "To See The Sun"

Posted on 04/07/2007
Copyright © 2026 Tony Whitaker