the brown shirt boy

as a boy in his brown

shirt.

arm stretched out in salute.

he marched

with the other boys.

carrying sticks

for guns.

too young for war,

but willing

and believing in

the new world that was

yet to come.

and now at ninety, he

remembers

and smiles. 

slipping on occasion,

as he reminisces, 

revealing

his true nature, his arm

snapping upwards.

his lips whispering,

siege heil.