News from Baghdad

A small spot to describe to a certain extent what it is like for the soldiers here in Iraq. I must remain anonymous as there may be some who would view this as an "official" posting, however, it is not. Just some personal views on the politics and public views in this war that has been to oftentimes tainted by the sensationalism of the media.

Location: Home, United States

I enjoy my job to the fullest, regardless of the political climate at any particular time. My family and my soldiers are the central focal point of my existence as well as my religious viewpoints.

Sunday, October 30, 2005

30 October 2005

The following poem was written by a very good friend of mine, Jordan Wierenga. I wanted to share it with you all. It speaks volumes.

In honor and loving memory of those who gave (and are giving) their lives for our country, and to everyone who died in the September 11th suicide attacks.

Blackberry Summers

Do you remember
Those long summer days
When we were children?
We'd lay in the grass
Smelling the wild flower blooms
And laughing and playing.
We'd taste the juicy oniongrass
The bitter tang of clover leaves on our lips
And, best of all, the wild blackberries
We'd return home stained blue-purple head to toe
But we never cared
It was alright as long as we were together
And we grew year after year
Suddenly, those long summer days turned shorter and shorter
We did not have all that time together anymore
But still we tried so hard
And we fell in Love.
Then one day you were gone
Called to War overseas
I remember crying and screaming at you
But you stood there so strong and calm
Refusing to be hurt by my sorrow
But I saw it in your face, saw your fear and love
And I kissed youAs a tear slid down your cheek and mingled with mine
No, no, can't you, YOU CAN'T!
And then I was alone
I'd lay in our meadow
Thinking of you
Missing your gentle embraces
Your soft kisses
Your long letters of love
Then One end of summer eve
Coming home from our meadow
Cheeks stained blue with juice like old times
Times long forgotten now
I got a letter from the army
This is it! I thought
You were coming home at last!
I rushed to the privacy of my room
And opened the envelope hastily
Ignoring the running blood from my newly slit palm
I dropped the letter opener softly on my blankets
I stood up in eagerness
And read with joy!
And then I stopped
The letter slipping from my grasp
As I learned you were never coming home
You were stained, too
Not with the sweet juice of our childhood
But with blood
So much blood
I fell to the ground and heard something crack
But I did not feel it, for what was left for me to feel?
A tear fell from my eye
Just oneI did not mind
As far as I cared
I was dead
Like you
But if I was dead, where were you?
You were gone
Just like the long days of summer
You were gone

Powered by