the war is over.
well, not exactly.
people are still
dying. i almost
forget why sometimes,
but it seems
important,
as every war does
in the moment. of
course in hind
sight, it's always,
the question why,
what the hell
were we thinking. we
can't make everyone
like us no matter
how hard we try.
meanwhile, it
continues as the
homeland gets
bored, we drink
our coffee and
flip through
the paper to other
news, the sports,
what's playing at
the movies.
and the war becomes
a very distant drum,
with a slow sad beat,
the boots barely
audible as they march
into darkness.
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