Poetry In Motion: The Veteran

Picture Credit: My Old Same

The Veteran
He goes by many aliases
but answers best to sir, as in:

Yes, sir.
No, sir.
Will do, sir.

Standing attention. Saluting the
American Flag with his government
issued name – one I’ve accidentally
come to know – stitched in camouflage
shining in the morning light of dawn.

When people refer to him as “the man”
he shakes his head no, saying: “You are
confusing me with my father” –
paying homage to the junior behind
his title and the long linage of
Taino warriors he’s descended from.

The first time I lay naked next to him
I know I’m wrapped snugly in the arms
of a trained killer – left to imagine
what these hands were commanded
to do upon my civilian behalf.

In his eyes, I see the enemy –
the one they sent him to handle –
the hatred of 1,000 men,
bloody, defeated, on their
way to an early grave.

On his lips, I taste burnt skin, charred,
beyond repair.  I don’t hesitate.
I pull him near, inviting him in,
naively thinking my waters
can cleanse a nation’s sins.

Yes, sir.
No, sir.
Will do, sir.

The dirty remnants of war.

I Salute, Sir.
A Warrior Princess

2 comments on “Poetry In Motion: The Veteran

  1. you keep my fires lit …. wado dear SD!

  2. Anonymous says:

    beautiful poem

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