Green Wars

I read an essay

on a personal experience

with the Irish poet Seamus Heaney,

a discussion on violence

and the greens of Ireland.

I have been fortunate

to not have the experience of bombs in my town,

or the violence of war on my doorstep.

Yet I have seen the bruises of love

and the scars that it leaves behind—

keloidal tissue

upon women and children,

insidious wounds,

constantly bleeding,

oozing sores of the mind

long after the flesh

has laid new cells upon the openings.

These are private wars

far out numbering the wars of men.

These women and children,

unknown warriors

extending across time and country,

global veterans

unintentionally drafted.

2016 copyright by Katie Pifer



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