Musings by The Poet Loriet
To My Soldier
TO MY SOLDIER
I wasn't ready
to tell you goodbye,
was just getting used to
the smile in your voice
when I said hello,
but I knew the time
for you to go
was approaching.
For a brief second,
you admitted that
you weren't ready,
and my heart
went out to you.
Then I heard
the false cheer
creep back into
your voice,
and I tried
to parrot that tone
back to you,
pretend like we
were discussing
the weather.
But the reality is
I don't know
if or when
I'll talk to you
again...
so for the second time
in our lives,
we promise to write,
only this time
I'm thankful for
the emotional distance
you insisted upon.
I can't imagine
how I'd feel
if we would
have made love.
The kisses I gave you
still linger,
teasing me,
making me want you
to give them back,
yet at the same time,
knowing
that our unusual friendship
was for the best.
I was fine with
our pointless small talk
until your hauntingly sad,
too quiet and uncharacteristic,
"Bye bye now,"
and I hurriedly clicked
the hang-up button,
pretending I hadn't heard.
The lump in my throat
wouldn't permit me
to get my mouth around
the word "goodbye."
I stared at the blurry numbers,
listening to the dial tone's mantra
as I whispered my goodbye,
too late.
This time, I won't be
at the airport gate.
I can't do it again,
watch you fly away
with my heart.
I'll just cradle my
plastic blue phone reciever,
the one that my tears evaporate
so quickly from,
like I need you to do.
Disappear into thin air,
my brave soldier,
save for the thin yellow ribbon
that you've used to
bind my heart to yours.
I wish you had
tied it on my oak tree
like all the other soldiers.
If I only had an oak tree...
and if you were only
just another soldier.
Lori Beal
I wasn't ready
to tell you goodbye,
was just getting used to
the smile in your voice
when I said hello,
but I knew the time
for you to go
was approaching.
For a brief second,
you admitted that
you weren't ready,
and my heart
went out to you.
Then I heard
the false cheer
creep back into
your voice,
and I tried
to parrot that tone
back to you,
pretend like we
were discussing
the weather.
But the reality is
I don't know
if or when
I'll talk to you
again...
so for the second time
in our lives,
we promise to write,
only this time
I'm thankful for
the emotional distance
you insisted upon.
I can't imagine
how I'd feel
if we would
have made love.
The kisses I gave you
still linger,
teasing me,
making me want you
to give them back,
yet at the same time,
knowing
that our unusual friendship
was for the best.
I was fine with
our pointless small talk
until your hauntingly sad,
too quiet and uncharacteristic,
"Bye bye now,"
and I hurriedly clicked
the hang-up button,
pretending I hadn't heard.
The lump in my throat
wouldn't permit me
to get my mouth around
the word "goodbye."
I stared at the blurry numbers,
listening to the dial tone's mantra
as I whispered my goodbye,
too late.
This time, I won't be
at the airport gate.
I can't do it again,
watch you fly away
with my heart.
I'll just cradle my
plastic blue phone reciever,
the one that my tears evaporate
so quickly from,
like I need you to do.
Disappear into thin air,
my brave soldier,
save for the thin yellow ribbon
that you've used to
bind my heart to yours.
I wish you had
tied it on my oak tree
like all the other soldiers.
If I only had an oak tree...
and if you were only
just another soldier.
Lori Beal
Comment On This Poem ---
To My Soldier
To My Soldier
