A nameless soldier.

“I wanted to sing a song
for a body I saw
crumpled
and without a name

but clearly someone young
who had not yet lived his life
and never would
How shall I do this?

What kind of song
would serve such a purpose?
This poem may never end,
for what answer does it have
for anyone
in this distant,
comfortable country,
simply looking on?

Clearly he had a weapon in his hands.
I think
he could have been no more than twenty.

I think, whoever he was,
of whatever country,
he might have been my brother
were the world different.

I think
he would have not been lying there,
were the world different…”
–Mary Oliver

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s