Shock and Awe, Coming Back Home

Written by: iolanda Scripca

My friends come home draped in flags 
I pause at the edge of the airplane door
Facing a tunnel leading me to a muffled joy
Strangers tell me I am related to them...
I deny a woman with three kids... her kiss
My friends are slipping in trucks with flags
They are loaded and back doors explode shut...
..............................................................

I wake up in a trench of blood and clean pillows
The same woman from the airport next to me
 Peacefully breathing...and I thought she was dead...
I think I am finally home, fans are not propellers
Camouflage doesn't bear swing sets in backyards
My friends' helmets, guns and boots line up in my head
Patrolling with weapons made of aluminum foil
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There is too much silence for a dead soldier walking...
I think I FEEL the kiss of the woman with three kids ...