Monday, November 11, 2013

To All Those Who Carried My Gun


You have born the duties of this flag;
Suspending all natural affections of home
and domestic tranquility;
While I enjoyed the same.

Whatever the coffee shop talk over papers and bagels;
You picked up my weapon,
and took my place on the line.

I have not forgotten,
and listen with burning interest
to testimony of adventures
and wounds
I inflicted
In absentia.

Now home,
You some damaged,
Bear still the pistol grip night
Of my deep repose.

Oh soldier,
I thank you;
For I have reaped what you have sown;
And you have paid
Blood for home.

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