A black and white photograph
A creased postcard
A troop ships name
Ready to depart.
A story long ago
Of a mans card home
To a family not present
He is alone.
The crowds they cheer
Waving farewell
Soldiers wave back
Heading to hell.
So to not feel alone
He looks to the crowds
Waving to strangers
At the dockside so proud.
A fragment of time
Little known or admired
Of an old soldier sat
Now aged and retired.