what the war took but did not return

the day he returned to us
he had forgotten how long

he had actually been gone
his Levi jeans pleated and cuffed at the ankle
Newport cigarette box tucked into his left pocket

​by that time he had been away for 1 year
two weeks
and three days...

even the cars outside our window
reminded him of days spent face down
stealing breaths of dust and sand

his time away reduced this wall of a man
to a toddler
sleeping away entire days
telling his family “I’m okay”
knowing better,
but lying anyway


the look in his eyes
told the story of
many nights sleeping alongside
the bodies of his friends
many he had grown to depend upon
as bullets rained down
from the heavens above


they were courageous, strong
and not yet 21


for weeks we tiptoed around him
quietly offering cups of chamomile tea,
auntie's coffee with cream
anything to remind him of the man he used to be
praying for the day of his re-awakening
that never really came


he was not welcomed home from serving
with city parades and banners waving
what so proudly he gave
will never be returned to him

we did our part, his new command
creating our own pomp and circumstance
in the form of dancing the electric slide
and Friday night fish fries


anything to bring him back to us


anything to bring him back to us…..
(c) 2018 Crystal Senter-Brown