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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