The Hard Man

He was just a boy, but somehow also a man. The light in his eyes would burn low when he became old, at the age of twenty-one.

He had run to the sound of the guns. The drums of war lured him like the Siren’s song. Strangely he made peace with the thought of a violent death in the dirt. Never thought it would be Jonesy.

It’s hard to find the azimuth on a one man patrol. All those years dreaming of back home. But home was in formation.

He can do anything he wants now that the divorce with Uncle Sam has been finalized. Except the one thing he wants most, to be with the boys again.

At least he has visitation on the weekends, but some of those visits are to a cold, smooth stone.

Time is as hard as the man who was made.