Homecoming

Tonight they are home,
But still, sit the two

Empty chairs at the table.
Two plates less to wash.

Their Mothers hold hankies

To their eyes, while
Their Fathers nod to themselves proudly, reaching

Into the mahogony cabinet in the

Sitting room, placing the medal

With the Queen's name inside, so it
Stands up in its box.

Tonight they are home

And the sounds will be quieter, now.

But over there, in Afghanistan,

The cracks, the shots,

The splitting of flesh

Go on.