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His dust covered boots
were a gift from The Man,
Uncle Sam, who had dressed him
in brown and in tan.

His luck, if he had it,
would bring him home soon,
save enemy crosshairs
by light of the moon.

His hopes high on a flagpole,
focused on living.
Maybe he'd see her
in time for Thanksgiving.

But The Man made him stay
as the sand battle raged,
trapped in the desert,
an animal caged.

His dinner- no turkey,
but foil and haste,
designed to sustain him,
not suited for taste.

Another month spent
without a clear winner,
deep into December,
cold, sand Christmas dinner.

A letter from home,
a note from his wife,
filled with her kisses,
new birth in their lives...

New Year was rung in,
with a mortar grenade
lobbed at his end
of a tank motorcade.

He never recovered
and heartbroken she,
sent back the presents,
and took down the tree.

She nursed the new baby,
alone in the dark,
pictures of Daddy
close to their hearts.


Zoo - Salted and Roasted
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