OLD PILOT

Alone he stands waiting on the corner
His hair has faded into soft greys and white
The old leather jacket is long gone
The new one is black as night
His khakis are worn, so comfortable though
His ball cap is tattered upon his brow
His hands are wrinkled, his step has slowed
But his eyes are shining even now
He watches the birds soaring above
Fondly he recalls flying as they do
For friends and his team
Hell he had flown through
So many years have gone past
The young ones today don’t remember the fight
He prays they never go to war and die
A tear forms as he remembers the fright
Bound on the earth for a while longer
He turns to go back to his home
One day he’ll fly away again
Far from this earthly dome
Pain and fear will be forgotten
When his life is finally done
The team will be regrouped
Life’s final battle will be won

Copyright ©2005  Leah Hall Slootweg