Faye Sizemore


Out walking small hand in large hand
Grandpa and little Jim trekked the land

Out in the field where the hill starts to crest
Two figures large and small stopped to rest

The small boy looked up and said
“What did you do in the war, Granddad’

The older man hearing this dropped his shield
Remembering things that had never healed

He stood quiet and remembered with wrinkled brow
Suddenly he was transported from the here and now

The weight of these memories causing him to bow
To give this boy an answer he didn’t know how

He remembered the smoky battles, the drying blood
The jungle heat, the eternal rain, the slimy mud

It seemed those things would never end
He still hears the screams of dying men

Friends dead in the blink of an eye
Still even now his soul asks why, why

What was won did not balance what was lost
There isn’t anyone on earth can total the cost

He thought he’d never see again these fields of home
He had been afraid his children would grow up alone

Looking down at the young innocent boy
The grandfather decided on another ploy

Not wishing yet to visit the horror of war on him
He said only “Why, I did what a soldier does, Jim”