Soldier not in a Battle

He sits where steel remembers battles,
a quiet pause between echoes of command.
Dust clings to the mountains behind him,
as if the earth itself is holding its breath.

Camouflage mirrors the land
man and terrain stitched into one intention.
His hands cradle the weight of duty,
not in anger, but in practiced resolve.

The flag on his arm whispers of distant shores,
of homes imagined in the hush between missions.
His eyes search the horizon,
not for glory, but for what must be guarded.

In this stillness, war does not shout
it waits, patient and watchful,
as a soldier learns again
how heavy peace can be to carry.