(Nowadays with women on the war front battlefields the return home hugs are often reversed. However, we as women are immersed in the fight whether we actually don the combat boots or carry our military heroes on the backs of our hearts while they serve as well as when they return. Yes, suffering in war truly has no gender, but woman to woman I am finding more and more the losses are immeasurable…yolanthaism)
WAR IS NOT FOR WOMEN
the trojan amazon
stood before him.
she returned home
hair matted in blood
she had walked through deaths flood.
now here she stood
a woman soldier in boldness.
a heart of warmth now protected in coldness
in the doorway.
he gently took off her armor.
not one word was said.
Many she fought beside were lost or dead.
She had mastered not being afraid.
her face still wore a warriors wrath.
his lips touched hers
for a cleansing kiss bath.
he kissed her hairline
behind her ear, to her spine
lingering at the small of her back.
the roughness of his unshaven chin
on her behind,
she began to shiver causing him to quiver.
she allowed her pain to part the smallest sliver.
he kissed and caressed
not minding the time it would take
to coax her softness awake
and unleash the tears
she kept hidden
and war had forbidden.
she allowed him to pick her up
as her hard eyes began to blur and shed.
she curled into a fetal position
sobbing for the authentic tradition
of women who birth babies they tend
from their breast
instead of tossing grenades into
another woman’s nest.
he covered her with a flannel sheet
curled his body around hers
chasing her chills with his body heat.
Finally, fitfully she slept.
he guarded her
and in-spite of his man-ness he wept,
have to dress her
in a three piece suit,
hand her a briefcase
and high heel pumps
instead of combat boots.
(a poem of encouragement for former marine Jesse and wife Kelly Cottle, an excerpt from WHERE HAVE ALL THE WOMEN GONE aka FLYING FLOWERS by Children/Women/Earth Arts Advocate, Yolantha Harrison-Pace)