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Who's That Man?
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Military Who's that man, standing over there,
Where my little boy used to be?
He looks so familiar, but changed somehow,
And looks much older now, to me.
He looks so serious, and so grown up,
Wearing such a striking uniform.
Can it be, my same little child,
That in these months, he did transform?
Oh, but there's those telling eyes,
Of a mid-day, lightened blue.
I'd know those bright eyes anywhere,
Even though, inside, he's changed anew.
And there's that hair, what little is left,
A light and warmish, russet brown.
If only I could see, his telling smile-
But right now he wears, a serious frown.
I think I see, his well-known to me, features,
But yet, they are different somehow as well.
From this distance, I can't be sure.
Its just too hard for me, to exactly tell.
Look at how he stands, fixed at attention,
When I could never get him to be still.
Can this be, the same boy who left home?
Who now stands there, with disciplined will?
I wish I could get closer to him,
So I can know for sure, that its my child.
But then again, there's no children up there,
Just grown men, so calm and unriled.
And then at last, the Ceremony is done,
They tell them all, to run to their Mothers.
I see that same man, he's running towards me,
I only see him, and none of the others.
He grabs me up in a huge monster hug,
And there's that impudent boyish smile!
I was right, when I picked him out, up there,
I knew it down deeply, all the while.
I look at him now, so intently and up close,
In a wonder only Mothers know, so accurately.
And even though I still ask, "Who's that man?"
He's still and always, my little boy, to me.
