War in Our Backyard

A beautiful fall day in Atlanta,
leaves flutter, drift peacefully down.
Children laugh, adults smile.
In New York, a cruel hole torn in peaceful ground.

My Father fought in World War II,
a chest of medals lay on a forgotten shelf.
The freedom of Dachua, memories hidden away,
buried deep within himself.

It was an ordinary day in America.
People shop, work in their yards.
Emotions changed in the Land of the Free.
Citizens lost now, cries buried so far.

As for me, I sit in a park,
watch innocent children play.
In Washington, decisions are made,
life changing ones on a painful day.

I hear a Mom shout, “Have fun, hang on!”
Then she wrings her hands.
Her child climbs the slide,
takes a fantasy flight, lands in soft sand.

A soldier climbs in a fighter jet,
buoyed by cheers from below.
A Mom or wife watches with proud tears.
Her price, she already knows.



Poem: 24 lines

By:
Kathie Stehr (mother of two Army soldiers)
1st Written on September 22, 2001
(Christopher Ryan Prance had disctotomy due to injury from Humvee rocket attack in Iraq-discharged due to disability from chronic pain-Kurt Micheal Stehr in Army Reserves-just back from Haiti relief work)

Revised June 2010