Back from Iraq 4/04
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
no ticker-tape parade
no welcome home celebration
no media coverage
“Good Morning, America” doesn’t spoil breakfast
with the newscast
no one should see the caskets
being unloaded from the plane
the 23 flag draped caskets
they do show pictures of prisoner abuse this day
as yesterday
and the day before
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
the first time my son came home was with fanfare
every television channel
“Mission Accomplished,” resounded the banner
behind our president
on the aircraft carrier
thumbs up
dressed as a genuine military man
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
the stock market reports
an upward surge in Halliburton this day
the television airs a commercial
approved by John Kerry
condemning jobs sent to other nations
not mentioning Mexico
nor his wife of Heinz fame
or the 23 flag draped coffins
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
my son is in the plane
the plane with the 23 flag draped caskets
he serves on the flight crew
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
23 other sons just got back
from their tours in Iraq
they won’t have to return
but my son most certainly will
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
Harmonica Player
Dad was a harmonica player.
He always played those same several songs,
but he played them well.
Everyone recognized and sang along with
Camptown Racetrack, Oh Susannah
and Red River Valley.
On his visit to Germany
while I was in the Army
Dad played, Ach Du Lieber Augustin
and Beer Barrel Polka much
to everyone’s enjoyment over there.
He could also do a good imitation
of that train chugging along the tracks
down by the plywood factory
in Ridgeway Virginia,
steam whistle and all.
Dad was a harmonica player.
He always had a harmonica
in one of the kitchen drawers
or on our mantle above the fireplace,
sticky from a child’s fingers
and clogged with ******* crumbs.
With six children he went through
quite a few harmonicas.
Out of us kids, I was the only one
to learn to play anything,
just 3 or 4 songs, but that,
none the less, means
I am a harmonica player.
That one Christmas Dad gave
each of his four grandsons
a Hohner “Old Standby” harmonica
with beginner instruction and method book.
I guess none of the other grandsons
had done much with their instrument,
because when Dad asked my son, Jason
if he could play the harmonica he’d sent,
it was something like,
“Well, I guess you never learned to play yours either.”
Jason came out of his room a little later,
handed Dad the songbook and asked,
“Which would you like to hear?”
He picked You Are My Sunshine
and Jason played it note for note
from the music written on the page.
Dad was both surprised and thrilled,
but most of all amazed.
Jason not only could play his harmonica,
but also read music,
something neither he nor I could ever do.
He talked about this for many years to come.
That, of course, means
Jason is a harmonica player, too.
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 11:20 PM UTC