©Words Robin Clark
The Last Soldier:
Reflecting in a pool of blood
Paralyzed beneath the scud.
Seeing friends face down in mud.
While on the vine, a dying bud.
The Last Soldier:
Yesterday with young cadets;
Smoke rings from his cigarettes;
Quietly, lives with regrets:
Suffering with nightly sweats.
The Last Soldier:
My brother’s and my sisterhood,
The soldiers which restore the good;
Doing what they’re told they should:
The empty space where someone stood.
The Last Soldier:
As you stand there and salute,
A shine instead of muddy boot:
Hoping you won’t have to shoot;
Over what’s not your dispute.
The Last Soldier:
Loyalty denies despair.
Hearing disbelievers’ prayer;
Witnessing the rocket’s blare:
A life where nothing can compare.
The Last Soldier:
Echoes of a battle cry;
Left to live when other’s die.
Never time to say good bye.
Never understanding why.
The Last Soldier:
Coming home to open arms:
People missing all your charms;
How they missed you on the farms:
While quietly we sound alarms.
The Last Soldier:
Do we celebrate this coup?
Touting flags, red, white and blue?
Marching to Cohen’s Revue,
After all you just went through?
The Last Soldier.
Let it be, you are the one-
Who toted ‘round that heavy gun;
And taught us wars that can’t be won;
When hatefulness can be undone;
And in the end, there’s no home run,
It’s not a game out in the sun.
And wheels they turn as we’ve begun
To canonize daughters and sons
To be….
The Last Soldier.
