Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Douglas Polk- A Poem

Working at the NSA

in my cubicle watching the information,
upon my computer screen,
a down pour,
raindrops caught and stored,
saved for a later day,
when terrorists threaten,
the words spoken but not heard,
only phone numbers and locations,
and maybe a site or two,
visited in the dark of night,
rest peaceful America,
I am at my desk,
watching the rain pour down.

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