The Last Train Home

The Last Train Home


The medals shine upon my chest
as I prepare to leave.
I’ve done my duty. I can rest.
There is no need to grieve.

I'm riding on the last train home.
They’re waiting patiently.
No longer will I need to roam;
there's nothing left for me.

We'll gather, friends and family,
tell stories from the past.
They'll fold this flag that covers me
and I'll be home at last.

The light sifts through the smudged window,
small towns are rolling by.
The click-clack of the rails below
blend with the whistle's cry.

It makes a mournful melody
that echoes in the hills
until it fades as miles go by
and finally it stills.

The motion of this old box car
that rocks me to and fro
reminds me that I've traveled far
and still have more to go.

An honor guard is waiting there,
a few eyes fill with tears.
The sound of taps floats in the air,
a sound so sweet and clear.

I'm lowered gently in the ground;
I say my last goodbyes
to loved ones who have gathered 'round.
Pride shines in their eyes.

As darkness comes, I see a light
that signals my release.
I know the life I've lived was right;
at last, I'll rest in peace.

An entry for the February round of "SENIOR CENTER FORUM" 
Prompt: Veteran, or Present Day Soldier, Pride in Country, etc.
Form: Quatrains  
Line Limit: None
Line Count: 36