Honoring those who served ... A Rebel Poetry Entry
He sees the face reflected in
the mirror in the light -
the passage of the years written
in lines and hair, now white.
The uniform he proudly wore
still fits – though a bit tight.
A dusty box within a drawer
holds medals that shine bright.
He slides the jacket on and smiles;
the image that he sees:
a young man unlined by life's trials
lives in his memories.
He hears a band play in his mind,
a Souza-like refrain.
He searches in the cheering crowd;
she's waving at the train.
The years he spent across the sea
are now just a blur.
In England, France, and Germany
his strength was found in her.
He thinks of comrades he has known
whose names rest on a plaque.
He wonders where the time has flown
and how he made it back.
For those who lay in Flanders field
he knows he owes a debt.
His memories cannot be healed;
his eyes tear with regret.
He starts to turn, a final sigh,
his feelings strong inside.
He looks the soldier in the eye
and sees a glint of pride.
He salutes the soldier that he sees,
a tribute well deserved
for those who're only memories;
for those that proudly served.
An entry for the June/July round of "Rebel Poetry Contest"
Prompt: 2 - Sebastian's Voodoo
Line Count: 36