'the Cowboy On the Battlefield ... ' (Cowboy Poem # 12)

Young Cowboy On The Battlefield Remembered His Mama’s Words ‘Just Make It Home, Son …’ Her Voice Echoed, As He Heard … Rapid-Fire and Revolution Missiles, Right and Left Bomb-Blasts and Confusion … and Silent Tears, He’s Wept … Every Day, A Minefield Every Night, A Raid Every Moment, A Terror Trying to Make Him Afraid … Any Second, A Horror Of A Buddy, Laid To Rest Every New Tomorrow Wondering, What’s Next ? The Cowboy On The Battlefield Vigilant and Brave Stood Ramrod Tall and Terse … Looking At Her Grave … ‘Just Make It Home, Son … ‘ … Echoed Thru His Brain ‘Just Make It Home, Son …’ … Echoed Thru The Rain And Just Before She Was Laid To Rest She Said, ‘Just Make It Home, Son …’ And With Those Last Words, She Blessed, And Said, ‘I’ll Be Waiting, When You Come …’ * * * * … Old Cowboy, On The Battlefield Remembers His Mama’s Words ‘Just Make It Home, Son … … and We’ll Celebrate Our Return … Of Note: In The Words Of A Lady Rocker, Pat Benatar: ‘Love Is A Battlefield’ (but I Say, 'Life Is A Battlefield'