He had not served in

the European theater

like his grandfather

who battled Hitler

and loved his country

(March 23, 1943)

or in the swampy hell

of Southeast Asia

like his father who’d been

diminished by protestors and

volunteered to return

(August 14, 1968)

He did not commute to

an elevator and a desk

in a now-gone tower

like his lonely mother

each Monday through Friday

(September 11, 2001)

And his brother who saw

the plumes to his west

and flew to the east

to waste two dozen Taliban

before he entered that building

(May 3, 2003)

Instead he waged his own

poorly fought war

holding a bottle in his hand

like an umbrella to

fend off a bomb drop

(TBD)

copyright 2012 Steven Harz

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