Welcome Back, Dear Soldier.

(for the 18-24 year old kid I saw eating across from me- about 4 months ago. It was obvious that he was just back from Iraq or Afghanistan. He was in a wheelchair. He had a runner's build, and I could imagine that he had been an athlete before his time in the service. Who knows. Anyhow, it struck me enough to make me write.)

First day back in town
Out to lunch at his favorite pre- war lunch place.
Treats himself to a good meal and a lunch date.

Carries the wrapped sandwiches in his lap
Holds his soda
Pushes himself along the counter, pays his money
Goes along
Finds a table away from the throng
And sits and drinks his coke.

He needs a napkin
Forgot to get one.
Last year, it wouldn’t have been a problem
Last year, he sat here cross-legged and tan
But this is now
And he is here
And mayonnaise lands on his lap.
Wipes his shirt over the mess
He’s ashamed
And there’s mounting stress.
Just a mundane task
Simple little actions
That now get in his way.

First day back here
Simple little actions

She sits down at his table
Tries not to stare.
She tries to make him smile
She’ll stay there for a while
She’s an old friend.
She knows better than to stare
At the legs that don’t work
At his muscled arms
And the gloves on his hands
And the smile on his face.

First day back here.
Home from war
Back for a battle
Scarier than anything he’s ever seen
Return to normal
Eat your sandwich
Return to normal
No one wants to hear what he’s seen.
First day back here

Welcome home, son.