His Father's Eyes by Dean Kuch
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~~~~~~0~~~~~~ The bugler blows a sad refrain, where heroes die and thus, are lain, to rest beneath the saffron grass. Horse drawn processions slowly pass... Yet, stoic still — there stands one man, hears neither bugler nor the band, come to honor his only son, who's died for freedoms left undone... A single tear slides down his cheek, Oh how he longs to hear him speak; “Daddy, can't we both go fishin?” Why had his son gone on that mission... The IED rent blood and bone, to prayerful pleas — “Please send me home!” Soldiers scrambled from mangled wreck, no help forthcoming, not one speck... Black veiled assassin left unseen, the sandy ground – soaked red and green – as oily smoke darkened dim skies; no one would calm their tortured cries... And now, all that the man has left, a folded flag, nation bereft, as yet another young man dies... a hero in his father's eyes. Will...this one's for you.
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