THE LAST BATTLE

Written by: Sidney Beck

THE LAST BATTLE

In a huddled lump, old soldier on Front Street,
But the hurrying winter crowds never even see  him
As they stop for hot dogs in the snow on a child’s whim. 
An army of people pass but no one wants to meet
The  salute in his eyes; and he greets only feet       
As he pulls his old medal tunic around his one limb 
In a huddled lump.

Long months since his last time to eat meat   
Or fill his battered metal cup to the rim.
Clutching his sheet as his battle memories dim,
He finally falls in defeat fom the hail of sleet  -
In a huddled  lump.  

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Written by Sydney Peck   on  21  July  2012

Entered in  Nette Onclaud's  Contest   RONDINE  -   THE TRAFFIC OF LIFE