The Former Soldier And The New Recruit
He stands in the darkness at the end of the yard,
Twilight getting dim.
He's on high alert and listening hard,
Nothing gets past him.
He stands in front of me,
Yet his mind is far away.
In exotic places I've never seen,
He goes back there day by day.
I go out to him,
With a brew and a smile.
He lights up a smoke,
And we stand there for a while.
Silently still and ever vigilant,
Taking in everything,
Yet seeing nothing,
Except the dreams that still haunt him.
"They're still out there somewhere,"
He says with a gruff voice.
"I'll never be rid of them,"
"Not by my own choice."
"The war's over dad,"
I try to sound reassuring.
"I know it is son,"
He looks at me and grins.
We stand there side by side,
Quietly staring into the twilight.
The former soldier and the new recruit,
Footsteps followed and all is right.
By: Heath G. Schofield