One Soldier

SHE REMEMBERED HIS FACE AS HE LEFT THAT DAY THE TEARS HE HELD BACK THE WORDS HE COULD NOT SAY A YOUNG MAN OF TWENTY HANDSOME AND TRIM WOULD SOON BE A SOLDIER IN A WAR, SO GRIM THE LETTERS HE WROTE TOLD OF SUFFERING AND PAIN OF NIGHTS IN FOXHOLES DURING MONSOON RAINS HE SPOKE OF SWEET MEMORIES OF FRIENDS BACK HOME THEY KEPT HIM GOING WHEN HE FELT ALONG THE MONTHS PASSED SWIFTLY HIS RETURN WAS DELAYED FOR DEATH CAME TO MEET HIM EARLY IN MAY ANOTHER LIFE LOST IN SENSELESS CONFRONTATION FOR THOSE LEFT BEHIND THERE WAS NO CONSOLATION M. Clary 1968

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