(c) 2018 Edward York
He\'s lived almost a century,
His body\'s bent and frail.
He made a living as a carrier,
Delivering all the mail.
His vision has gotten blurry,
His hands may sometimes shake.
Sleep will often escape him,
As he lies in bed awake.
He was stationed at Pearl Harbor,
Part of a naval crew.
He has friends at the bottom of the ocean,
Ever since World War II.
His dreams are all so vivid,
That should come as no surprise.
The nightmares of war still haunt him
Whenever he shuts his eyes.
His dreams make him feel anxious,
As he struggles to catch his breath.
He remembers all his shipmates,
Who met a fiery death.