Anguish of decades spent Lord surrounded by spaces Husband at death away Children a seed scattered No promise the morrow A peace certainly denied She is a remnant of sisters whose voices are pillows a music lain softly aside Some times she holds them a sleep whisper and makes their song solace in what might have been What mother's tear has cried borne the weight of time crush of unacceptable losses whose shoulders bent never break Proud head thrown back in Winter song I by God claim my blood Mama was a soldier She stood five feet very tall protective of her tiny army made of the stuff of first rank no stranger to front line engagement Mama was a soldier attended by pride and integrity stepped forward into the fray always aware that survival was all she could ever hope to gain Mama was a soldier never let fear own her lest her army fail to hold that pale dark line like blood on a shoestring Mama was a soldier retired to her Winter home in a hard unforgiving land that she might carry the fight Good soldiers never rest