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POEMS I'm sorry I'm still alive. He stays there for a while. Winter wind pungently chills his old back. goes through the routine of over 50 years walking and calmly climbing up cold, shadowy stone-made stairs to pray for old mates who died in the War. did not only mean victory or defeat; life had to keep on and on. The Veteran might have survived but bullets cut deep in his heart. Something beyond theories is behind this sorrow, and it is not weighed or measured properly. While death meant nothing, life meant suffering. but when I feel content without any fear, I think of this Veteran - Are you still praying for your mates? - Itsuka Yamasaki Prev | Next |
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