Who returned from Baghdad on that early morning flight....
a husband or a daughter or the fear that owns the night...
and who would know what happenned too the person that you knew...
a bomb a smell a noise perfume the horror of the view..
the laugh is tight the smiles there..
a room too bright amidst the glare...
but then an unfamiliar glance...
an unpredicted circumstance...
and once again the stare..
who returned from Baghdad much anticipated flight...
a lover or a mother or an animal in fright...
and will they want to tell us of the terror that they saw..
or would we be confounded that they live between the walls..
of dark and light...who knew
the laugh is tight the smiles there..
a room too bright amidst the glare...
but then an unfamiliar glance...
an unpredicted circumstance...
and once again the stare..
who returned from Baghdad do we really want to know..
a doctor or a soldier or a beggar in the snow..
and can we ever pay the price with human souls and sacrifice..
to heal the ones that do return or let it roll and throw the dice..
or must we simply learn this cant be done again...
the laugh is tight the smiles there..
a room too bright amidst the glare...
but then an unfamiliar glance...
an unpredicted circumstance...
and once again the stare..
Tahoma 2/10/08
