Student Publishing Program ::

Derek Embry

Sarge

The road was anything but smooth
The humvee anything but calm.
We all sat quietly
Clutching our helmets and rifles
Our dearest possessions
Our tools of destruction.
I gazed over to Sarge who
Sat in the passenger seat.
He turned to us,
Face caked with dust and clay,
Attempting to rally us with
Bold words in his usual
Tough and rugged tone.
His voice boomed over
The rev of the engine.
All eyes fixed on
His young, exhausted face.
We had been in battle
Many times
Soldiers scared sick, yet
He remained strong.
We still rely on him
For courage and vigor.
He told us this time it
Would be no problem, no one
Would be lost.
But the way he tightly
Gripped the radio
Told me otherwise.
Like a child
Holding its mother’s hand
During a thunder storm.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2011 EDITION]