The masses of humanity who pass him by ( if you can even call them that.) For where IS their humanity ?
Webster’s , that great tome of definitions, tells us ; HUMANITY ~compassion, brotherly love, fraternity, fellow feeling, philanthropy, humaneness, kindness, consideration, understanding, sympathy, tolerance …………
Perched on a milk crate , in mis-matched shoes, soles worn down to paper thin.
The little dog, eyes shining bright , with the reflection that , he and the man are a tribe all their own.
The man’s grayed hair , and face lined with a hundred, no maybe even a thousand memories .
Perhaps even memories he would wish to forget , of places far away, jungles hot and fetid.
The chopping sounds of helos flying over, and wondering if there is an end to this madness.
That the people passing by have forgotten about those days, easier for them to pretend it never happened.
And so to pretend that he does not exist either.
But , he sees.
And wrapped in an honor that only a few will know, that even fewer CAN know.
The creases in his face , would tell you the story, if only YOU could see.