The lone deserter travels on, through tapestry of green, paying no attention to the land he’s never seen.
Passion pocketed for later use, the milestones tucked away, with treasures from another life he once felt sure would stay.
Trying for clear passage, his back now all that shows, struggling to seek distance, from lovers, friends and foe.
We watch him trip and stumble, yet he holds his head erect, while trying to deny and mask the sadness we detect.
The ocean tide once friendly, the setting sky so gray, he separates his vision of the past now gone astray.
His shadow barely showing, horizon on attack, reminding us as we watch him go, of the power that we lack.
When will we get him back?
by CD-W
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Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 