The silence of good men

Going home

I stand between my shame and relief
I breathe…
The missiles missed this time
Truth is, they didn’t’ miss entirely
Someone’s house is destroyed but not the house
I know so well
Someone’s family is grieving but not the one whose name I carry
I linger… between my shame and relief
I breathe…
I… breathe…
I tell myself
‘this flesh, torn and scattered, is not flesh I have ever embraced’.
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