A Young Soldier’s Burden

A mother’s poem to a soldier son

Today I witnessed the struggling sadness in a young soldier
barely touching his twenties.
A young man whose life’s journey has just begun,
losses falling from his soul.

No one knows the weight in his kit bag that those
strong shoulders carry every step he takes.

His innocence packed neatly
next to the bedroll of unrest gathered with 
the goals of an unknown future full of dreams.

Faces of the scenes he dare not
speak of, folded in with hours and days of boredom
laced with high alert signaled with the
sounds of exploding I.E.D.s wounding his friends,
curled up next to the uniform 
of his dead brother.

I tried to comfort him,
tried to look into the eyes that stray away
with a fear of intimate discovery
not ready or willing to be unveiled.

Words and a hug won’t do,
human spirit disconnected.

I wish he could march forward,
carry on, dare to forget,
leave the memorials 
as memories.

Bury them in the Afghan dust of the past.
Please march on young man
the time has come for 
others to carry your burdens.