Colin F. Jones


~ 1 ~

At some time we will all look back,
and wonder what we are…
Feel remote, and dressed in black,
feel we have not gone far.
For some who took no further step,
Than that which marched to war,
‘Tis as though life is backward swept,
That one can’t move forward any more.
Poised we stand on the very rim,
Where the valley far below,
Is deep and dark and hiding him,
Who is this man I do not know.
And someday soon death will win,
Because the snowman is just snow.

~ 2 ~

Life once lived is life no more,
Each day dies with the past,
Yet still we recall those distant wars,
For our thoughts are backwards cast.
Yet all that’s gone is gone for good,
As I will be soon as well,
That, like the snowman where he stood,
There will be no trace of where he fell.
It seems so sad to age and sigh,
To decease and anguish yield,
When the greatest way for a man to die,
Is as a soldier in the field.
For then there is a reason why,
When we die by being killed.