THE VFW: A SONG FOR YOUNG SOLDIERS

The veterans of family wars
Are coming home today.
Their heads are bowed,
Their eyes are cloud,
But they make a brave army.

Grandpa with his hunting dog,
Poses for Grandma's painting.
Their only child,
Our Daddy, finds
A patch of four-leaf clover.

The four of us are wounded,
Making bandages of guilt.
I play doctor,
Mike is mailman,
Sister is nurse, and Baby builds.

Mommy drinks with her new man,
Hoping to kill the divorce,
Win her mother,
Save her father,
And force God to punish her.

The Lord of Hosts waits perfectly.
His angels wear soft aprons,
Talk about fears,
Draw out old tears
For the victory of grief.

Before the parade, I walk
Once more down the battered street.
Goodbye to shame,
Farewell to hate.
Get back home. It's not too late.

(Provo, Utah, 31 December 1991)