A poem I wrote

“Those Soldier’s Hand” by Liz Smith.

Calloused and strong are Soldier’s Hands,
they’ve held back rivers in flooded lands.

Those same Hands, gentle and kind,
led children away from a field of mines.

Even when they’ve taken life,
it’s COMBAT with gun or knife.

They break their bread and clean their boots,
there’s nothing that those Hands can’t do.

And in the end, as Death commands,
who will hold Those Soldier’s Hands?