Deserter

Deserter short poem

Photo by eugeni_dodonov

… he crossed the border

The great river bed
with cold water whispering on the pebbles

and the distant mountain, snow-capped,
steep and hard to reach
in black fatigues, no automatic weapon,
good army boots,
a polished buckle on his belt,
the trip, nigh on impossible

yet he was strong in arms and legs
and at the outset
strode upon the white stone shore where he met

two grey-headed men. One asked him:
What is your rank?
They were in uniform black waistcoats, dhotis,
and were unarmed
so a break would have been easy
but the young man stood his ground,

he told them and the first one smiled,
he smiled and said:
What is your religion? And as the river ran

he told him and the old man smiled
then embraced him.
When they embraced the old man’s hands
were on his head and arms
and so he leant upon his shoulder,
wept for coming home.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Dominic James

Dominic James

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
Having moved along from prose I have been writing poems for a few years now, trying different forms - gaining and failing (see Sonnets) - trying to match mind and soul on the page: it was never going to be easy. The best writing is generally poetry, the worst too. So, we work on it.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

1 Comment on "Deserter"

Notify of
avatar
Sort by:   newest | oldest
wpDiscuz