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"I am a dead soldier"
by W. Mahlon PurdinI am a dead soldier,
But I'm not sure which one.
I remember my death like it was yesterday.
I can still smell the cordite and blood
I remember the relief when I died.
I remember my family's pain
At the funeral. I remember every word.
I remember when they cut off my uniform
And told me it would be okay.
I remember the moment I was shot
I remember when the world blew up.
I am a dead soldier
Who still walks among you.
I remember my buddies, they are dead too.
I watched them fall like shell casings
One after the other, all in a long arching line.
I read their files and know their stories
I was there and I am still here
Wondering wondering why.
Death disappointingly offers no answers.
I still feel uncertain of my place.
I still seek shadows and expect
Rooms to explode. Oh sure, there are days
When the sun rises and I feel the warmth.
But mostly I lurk here among you
A shadow in the shadows
Watching but never seen.
I am a dead soldier,
Walking among you.
You with your coffee to go,
A cellphone in your ear.
Me with those memories:
What am I doing here? 03/31/2011 Posted on 04/01/2011
Copyright © 2026 W. Mahlon Purdin
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/01/11 at 09:16 PM Grim, compelling stuff. I really dug it. |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 04/01/11 at 11:38 PM ...bill, i so much believe that, that i concur[and i ain't even a barrister.] a chilling pome, yet so handled as to be soothing. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 04/03/11 at 05:24 PM This is heavy, indeed. I enjoy your direct approach, especially the feeling I get that this soldier may or may not be physically dead. That open-ended-ness gives it the haunting edge I admire. |
| Posted by A. Reed on 09/22/11 at 07:59 PM Agreed, I have great respect for what you have seen. |
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