War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

'Many Sisters to Many Brothers'

When we fought campaigns (in the long Christmas rains)
With soldiers spread in troops on the floor,
I shot as straight as you, my losses were as few,
My victories as many, or more.

Rose Macauley

I watched them too, the sisters braid their hair,
their battle stare every glarish as their brothers;
the medic out at village X, second tour
her face immobile as the mountain ridge
that leaned over our valley, full of hidden blue,
I watched her head into the Afghan night
her pack bouldered with plasma, ammo, bayonet
the argument of kill and save in her head
the heart of her saved, the heart of her dead,
a soldier swagger in a woman’s boots
five foot two if she was lucky, she sucked chew
spat as good as the best of them, still
she wore mascara, her hair long, braided,
planned her August wedding for when she’d be home.


About This Page

The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled 'Many Sisters to Many Brothers'. It was posted here on July 14, 2010.

·

Complete diary archive