Your children mourn you
Your husband grieves you
Your sisters’ tears tumble
At the memory of you.
I maintain a silent vigil
At the back of the church
Having felt the loss of you
Far longer than they

The metal floor is slicky
Desert heat amplifies
The odor of ***** and blood
Mostly empty IV bags hang on their stands
Packaging from numerous medical supplies
Litter the ground

Quickly and carefully I clean and spray and sweep and scrub
I sort and pack and refit and reorganize
Preparing the chopper for the next call

Lives were saved
But
I don’t know what will become of them
Some will leave the Army
Some will come back here
Some will do the job the enemy couldn’t do
And take their own lives

I can’t think about that
This is hard enough

Your arms aren’t quite right, your head’s too big
Your legs are turned in awkward ways,
You struggle to take each breath.
We couldn’t love you more,
But I need to know...
Will you forgive
our giving
you this
Life?

The dark doesn’t scare me anymore.
I don’t see your face in my dreams.
The panic attacks are gone.
The night terrors are too.
Often, I walk through
that park. On my
way to spit
on your
grave

Flying
Crying
Multiplying
Terrifying
Shrapnel flying, burned children crying
Deaths multiplying, the world's terrifying

Turning
Burning
Learning
Yearning
Blackhawk turning, HIT, cockpit burning
Troops learning of war, yearning for home

Look
My arms
Have no hands
They are but clubs
My gift from the Interahamwe soldiers
Machetes chopping old, young, everyone
Children, wife dead
One ******
April
Night