The train is not far
from the station now
and finally
we chug on home.
The sergeant says
there will be pretty girls
to hug our necks
and kiss our cheeks,
there will be old men in hats
to slap our backs
and say “Welcome home, son,
good job, good job!”
There will be ticker tape
and a big brass band
and a parade right through
the center of town
but this train is
so much emptier than it was
when we left for the trenches
and none of this fanfare
will fill it up again.
This poem was originally published under the pen name Gabriel Gadfly.
