A Soldier's Spirit

Walking through the streets of the city.

I shake my head, there is so much pain,

so many homeless, what a pity.

I see him there in the glow of the fullness of the moon.

He is a soldier laying there in despair.

His life hanging on by a thread.

He smells of whiskey as I approach.

His uniform fatigues are faded and torn.

He has been to Vietnam.

i smile as I see his Bronze Star shinning brightly in the moonlight.

It is pinned among some other medals, a Purple Heart among them.

He was a real hero, someone who gave of himself to save others.  But what has happen to him now?

This man laying here was a brave man who fought for his country, only to be an outcast, laying here in this alley in the pouring rain, cold

wet and probably hungry.  As the fog rolls in I approach him, my

shoes damp as I look down to his foot that was covered with a dull

green wool sock full of holes.

The other pant leg was cut off above the knee and wrapped around his

stump.  He was shaking, his jacket pulled up around his neck.

His hat pulled down to cover his fading blue eyes.

I held my umbrella over him, listening to his lumbering breath

and noticing one empty sleeve rolled and pinned to his shoulder.

He peered up at me with empty eyes that rolled back as he fell

over dropping his bottle of whiskey that rolled directly to my feet.

As he took his last breath he said, "God Bless America!"

Then he smiled and was gone.

Kneeling over him I saw in his hand a picture of a beautiful young

woman.

My tears flowed down as I shouted:

"What have we done to our hero's, those who fought to keep us free?"

"What Have we done?"  "How could we let this happen?"
My words choked in my throat.
When I looked up through my tears as they flowed endlessly down my cheeks.
A crowd of homeless people had gathered.  Each held a candle or a lighter with flames glowing to light the way for this soldier to find his way home.  I took a candle, someone lit it, while a young woman sang and the soldier's spirit floated into the light.
I whispered, "Thank you!"
Copyright 2009 Susan Elaine Graves