Page:Trees Kilmer.djvu/33

TREES AND OTHER POEMS

DELICATESSEN (continued) And there are those who grasp his hand,

Who drink with him and wish him well.

O in no drear and lonely land

Shall he who honors friendship dwell.

And in his little shop, who knows

What bitter games of war are played?

Why, daily on each corner grows

A foe to rob him of his trade.

He fights, and for his fireside's sake;

He fights for clothing and for bread:

The lances of his foemen make

A steely halo round his head.

He decks his window artfully,

He haggles over paltry sums.

In this strange field his war must be

And by such blows his triumph comes.

What if no trumpet sounds to call

His armed legions to his side?

What if, to no ancestral hall

He comes in all a victor's pride?

[ 27 ]