He looked so small,
Fitting comfortably into the seat on the soldier's thigh.
Eyes expectant,
Waiting for his hero's next move.

But the soldier did not see the boy,
His own eyes fixed beyond the horizon,
Searching for tomorrow's rays...

They will come, they must come.
He fought for them, fought to see them,
Fought for them to warm this boy's cheeks.

He cannot see the future past the line of the horizon,
Cannot touch it with his reaching finger,
But he can feel it in the arm supporting the boy's back.

*Inspired by the sculpture at Memorial Park in Omaha, Nebraska by artists James Keith and Major John Snider.