No mysterious imagery. No complicated
structure. Just a straightforward poem
relating to the episode, “Survival.”
OLD SOLDIER
By e-pony
He
still hears the echo
Of
proud, marching feet,
The
ordered advance
And
the panicked retreat,
The
rat-a-tat rattle
Of
guns overhead,
The
cries of the living
And
the moans of the dead,
The
cursing of strangers
And
reassurance of friends.
For
Col. Sonny McPherson
The
war never ends.
His
service revolver,
He
keeps by his side,
Near
some tags on a chain
From
a comrade who died.
He
eats from a kit
Stored
tight in his pack
And
sleeps on a roll
Carried
low on his back.
And
though base doesn’t answer
Any
message he sends,
For
Col. Sonny McPherson
The
war never ends.
He
walks his patrol
With
a soldierly tread,
Saluting
to generals
Now
thirty years dead.
A
battered old bike
Is
a jeep to his mind.
He
rides through the past,
Leaves
the present behind.
And
he wanders the desert –
The
front he defends.
For
Col. Sonny McPherson
The war never ends.
END