Second Life

He steps off into town now
sporting the hat he hates
that 'Your Mother' makes him wear

as it stays the winds,
chewing the replacement gum fervently
he spritely greets and grins.

 

'How's the grandkids?'

spreads a smile

from eyes he’s handed down;

across fading tobacco teeth
now chomping fruit
all in aid of his

 

second chance.
His second life.
Back to the front, old soldier,
through the valley

and up the crest,
you lead again.