Living Legend
Craggy-bearded, old gent;
cigar in-hand;
faded army fatigues,
thread bare from the years at war.
He sits, on a cold mall stool;
chats away with the passersby.
An old-timer
with more stories to tell,
than he has years left,
to live.
The crowd gathering ‘round him;
all curious-faced and half-smiling;
listen intently
transfixed by his war-memories.
The faces that he makes,
Expressions morphing,
into sadness;
at the relating of exploits
of long-gone comrades.
A frozen-faced,
young boy in the crowd,
absorbed in the old Vet’s memories,
says to him;
“Wow, you’re a real hero!”
Craggy-bearded old soldier
Laughs; points to the, purple heart,
proudly displayed on his chest.
“That’s exactly what they said,
when they gave me this medal, son.”
By: M.L. Kiser
Entered into, "Sketch-A-Character" contest
First Published on Poetry Soup: 10-29-14
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
