"Bombs Away!"

"Bombs Away!"
The pilot banks his Flying Fortress
And heads back to England.

V-E Day!
And everyone cheers
When he comes home
In his bemedaled uniform.

But no one cheers
When his son comes home.
He takes off his uniform.

"Peter, put away your sword."
So I never drew mine
And thought they were guilty.

Now, though, I'm called
To care for his soul,
Elderly and stately,
Confused, forgetful and innocent.

No longer is it the time
To confront guilt,
Assigned rightly or wrongly.
No longer is it the time
To have a stand.

Now it's the time
For presence and honor ...
For his world of flag waving,
For his values of patriotism,
And let go and let God sort it out.

©2011, John A. Mills