Today's Soldier

Today
the wilted
cast iron
figurine
of
the soldier
sits in
stoic haste.
The soldier
is guarded
and
obscured
by oily
pastoral
landscapes,
belligerently
sequined ladybugs
and
gorgeeeeeessssss
bone china.

And they all wait,
in moments
of disarrayed
contemplation.

But the soldier waits the longest,
is passed over always,
by
the groups of
irreverent
crabs
and
the flocks
of
pale
ornery
pigeons.

After hours,
as the clocks in the walls
mumble dirty jokes,
as the porcelain
doll stills
the folds on her
satin dress
listlessly
and as the
antique
washboards,
and
apothecary
bottles
settle bets...

the soldier
keeps
in basic goodness.

With aches
that have
gathered
in his porous
spine..

Smiling,
amongst
the
carnivores.

What does it look like
to
be
strong.

The soldier
thinks:
“this is just as good
a burial place as any.”