the old soldier

in his quiet moments
he remembers
marching with his soldier
brothers
weatherbeaten, hungry,
tired....scared.
every step a potential
death.
a breath without terror,
a luxury they could not afford.
together they marched,
in only that one moment.
now the old soldier sits,
silent.
surrounded by love,
his breathing labored.
his energy now a memory.
stored with
those of his brothers
taken by a long ago war.
he feels the path clearing,
he sighs, he sees.
he waits.
he knows.