Augusto Pinochet, 1915-2006
The tide recedes but leaves behind
bright seashells on the sand.
The sun goes down, but gentle warmth
still lingers on the land.
The music stops, and yet it echoes on
in sweet refrains...
For every joy that passes,
something beautiful remains. 
2 comments:
Augusto Pincochet
Loved to save the day.
Now he’s gone to stay,
Hanging with Ken Lay.
First Jeanne Kirkpatrick, now Gus. Why must the good die young?!?
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