Veteran of foreign wars
Stiff in arm and leg
Baggy pants bellowing in the wind
Salutes a crow in a tree
Before proceeding
Past a small graveyard
Waving his arms and ducking
As if besieged by ghosts
Lying in wait among the headstones
Each one in a hurry
To make a clean breast
Before he vanishes out of sight,
Leaving the tiger lilies
To themselves, and the little road
Deep in silence and prey to shadows
Once the evening comes.