.
I am a 44
-year-old woman
with a family and
a mortgage and
10-year-old Honda Pilot.
I will never fly over
the enemy or shoot a
gun or find myself in
a foxhole next to a dead
friend. I will never smell
the burning bodies
of the innocent children
of a foreign land.
I will never hear the
(I don’t know what I’ve been told…)
marching songs of men
and women willing
to flex their brave
for freedom. Not a one.
But I’ve got a son.
And a daughter.
And the brutal slaughter
of so many will pierce my
heart until it cries, and have me
praying for peace
until war
or I
die.
.
Prompted by Poetic Asides.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
That’s a good poem, but evil exists – and sometimes I wonder who stands against it.
My brother does, Bill. He’s a Sergeant Major in the US Army, a “lifer” who used to jump out of airplanes in strange lands, and now trains others to do so. This is in no way an anti-war poem. There are no good answers, and I am infinitely thankful for those who serve.
Men like him are the light that keeps away the darkness. I wish it were unnecessary.
Me, too.
Amen.
“willing / to flex their brave / for freedom” – I love the way this is put – so true and I think we often forget that this is how our freedom even exists. I have so much respect.
And yet war always sucks.
Beautiful poem.