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0 Comments | Jul 05, 2021

The Messenger

An olive green car
with a white star on the door
pulls up to the curb,
and right away she knows.
Everyone on her street knows.
It is a time of war
and it is his job
to tell her that the man she loves

is gone.

He will walk up to her door,
each measured step
more painful than the one before.
He has done this
ninety seven times so far.
He feels the weight of each one
as though it was his own father
or husband or son.

He will read the letter.
He will take her hand.
He will convey the sadness
and gratitude of a nation.

Then he will walk away
from the house,
smiling wanly
at the young boys in the yard
as they chase one another
with their cap guns
and argue over who is dead
and who is not.

July 4, 2021
Brian Kenneth Swain

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