Casualties Were Few - Poem #71

The casualties were few we’re told
while preparing to withdraw
Just three last month in Kandahar
Your son, my son and a boy from Florida.

“Your son, like mine, your eldest boy?
Handsome, straight and tall?
Mine too, a young wide receiver
beloved by one and all.”

Do you remember when they left
the sea of flags a flying?
The speeches made, while bands they played
no talk amongst our sons of dying.

Do you remember when they left
so young and eager to get going
while old men nodded to each other
in the secret code of knowing?

And now each sleeps in a pewter box
A flag draped casket, flying home
A cargo plane to Wilmington
the final miles before it’s done.

“No pictures please of caskets!”
the people should not bear the view
lest a thought they died for nothing;
remember just “the casualties were few”

.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

An old story well retold.

[toritto]

Mabt thanks John.

[toritto]

That's = Thanks John. Glad you liked and commented. My old fingers make typos! Regards from Florida.