Un-nameable

on a beautiful Autumn morning

low on the horizon behind the tree line

dragon fly machines shake the air and

make practice runs two miles away at the fort

no one strafed our home, dropped bombs or

walked boldly down the street in camouflage

loud, staccato, word bursts demanding we lie down in our yard

as they rifled through our house looking for terrorists

while mothers, fathers and children quiver

pray and beg both sides would leave them in peace

10-28-23