price of war
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Dani and His Gun
by KJ Hannah Greenberg



Dani and his gun, dropped

Off at the local center,

To catch a van to the depot,

Where swarms of soldiers

Assemble, to get back

To base.


Those young men, all

Someone’s sons, rifles

On shoulders, berets

Pinned firmly to shirts,

Gear rolled into duffels,

Wait patiently.


Snipers, other marksmen,

All someone’s sons, aim,

Protect our holy land via

Hands, hearts, prayers,

Also bullets, grenades,

Rocket launchers.


On breaks, they bus home,

Slurp soup, chow on chicken,

Annoy sisters, hug parents,

Dandle nephews, nieces,

Crawl with small fry, forget

War for a while.



a line, (a blue one)


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