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
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2014
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