Tee-Shirt Pocket

A letter came,
In the mail one Friday,
Words from a lover,
From far, far away.

They sent him to war,
He’s been gone for a year,
Each day she hopes,
For her love to be near.

One month, six days, and nine hours,
It said,
“Soon I’ll be home to my family,”
She read.

That day never came,
He never returned,
He died on the field,
His love would soon learn.

A letter came,
In the mail one Tuesday,
Word about a dead man,
From far, far away.

The funeral was packed,
The whole town had heard,
And after that day,
She never spoke another word.

She still walks the streets,
With his face in her locket,
And that last note he wrote,
In her front Tee-shirt pocket.