June 5, 2009
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High step,
Raised chin,
Squared shoulders,
Straight back.

The simple elegance,
Of words unspoken,
Of the pure existence of the needlessness,
Of voice wasted.

Black eyes unsmiling,
A firm, strong grip,
Towering, apparent height,
The flash of a smile,
Belonging to the thousands,
But vacant to his own.

The light of morning,
Breaks on everyone,
But he is up before the dawn,
Haunted by the burden,
Of a country.

Gait confident,
Pure presence,
An open face,
And a smooth wit.


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