A Fox Dreaming

1. A Thousand Steps Away by Brian David Granatir When I met the soldier with eyes of blue He stepped forward and said a strange thing “Fifty thousand, eight hundred and thirty two” And smiled as he kissed my ring With a salute, and a hand put on his sword He turned and promptly walked away And with each of his step taken afterward He continued to count and pray At first, I thought my ears were mistaken When I heard the soldier with eyes of blue Had counted every single step he’d taken In his journey away from you Then I took interest, as no commander should And began to ask about one of my men; The blacksmith recalled as best he could, “Forty-nine thousand and ten. “His tears fell and hissed upon my anvil When he handed me his broken sword As he came a hundred paces from battle Where his first kill had scored.” Next, I overheard some ladies’ gossip About this soldier with eyes of blue The nurse said she almost made his love slip And made him forget about you “We spoke of love beneath a sky of red And to tease him, I stepped towards the sun He hesitated, followed, and softly said, Ninety-five thousand and one.” Lastly, it was the priest who spoke to me And said this was a strange fellow indeed, “I found him dying beneath an oak tree Where red leaves fell and bleed “He said Death his promise could not malign And so he stumbled and staggered to stand Ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred, ninety-nine Oh dear God: One hundred thousand.” It was then that my war and life grew dim And I lost thought of your lover true Until when, in my last battle, I saw him The soldier with eyes of blue Like all the pieces, he lay fallen too So I ran, ran through the chaos mounting Grabbed his chest and shouted, “At least you, YOU CANNOT STOP COUNTING!” As he stood, he gave a smile so serene He said, “Two hundred thousand and thirteen.” I said, “Two hundred thousand and fourteen.” “No,” he replied, “and twelve, my king.” With his steps faltering and his life undone I threw down my sword, ripped off my crown, Went under his arm, and walked as one “Count down,” I said, “your trip is done.” The steps were mine and the count was his On and on we went to where his heart lives And when he slept - as he strength gives - My mouth and count became his He whispered in my ear all the strange things That happened along his many steppings I fight and fought back the tears it brings Oh this life not meant for kings We stopped amidst a field so very dear An important promise was given here— We collapsed beneath a lonely birch tree— He promised to come back to thee He said a soldier’s duty was to die But for him this fate would not apply For as sure as the sky or his eyes were blue He promised to marry you But cruel, cruel world, he did not fail I came to you to give this one detail For it was my strength, not his that stopped When in that golden field we dropped I know you’d rather have a soldier than a king Especially one who has done such a thing One who kept the soldier with eyes of blue Kept him but a thousand steps away from you Oh what agony is it to know of this great hero Who never got a chance to say, “Zero.”