I forget, sometimes, that he was a soldier --
- not that he gave so many years and lost as much time,
- not that the Army still owes him money and an education, at the very least,
- not that he was a different man before 2001,
- and certainly not how good he looked in uniform,
but sometimes, I forget what they did give him in return.

So with wounds six years old and still fresh,
the tears come without warning
when the bagpipes play Amazing Grace for the fallen,
and my soldier snaps
to salute.

06/15/2009

Author's Note: PotD 5/31/10

Posted on 06/16/2009
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