The Day My Husband Came Home from the Endless War the Sky Split Open by Michelle Aucoin Wait
1.
cold hard hail filled the ditch
marking our property line
locusts swarmed with sound
I saw one pink and alien
split its shell fall
to the ground
get taken under
as palmetto bugs crawled
up and out the earth waking
the needles
the limber pines
stood at attention in our backyard
exoskeletons kissed bark
clung for dear life
reminded us this plague
came from the desert
we traded life
for life candles lit
for him forgot the rest
someone or thing
must pay for participation
in this war for all this
freedom
2.
we went all in each time
he left high stakes
years playing poker
taught me next time
my hand might catch
on the river no one wants
to go home the donkey
everyone wants the money wants part
of the war machine wants
the comforts that come from war
wants this more than life
they sell it with words images
with insurance war time bonuses
promises of education
and we bet we can make it
another year
apart
3.
the day my husband came
home from the endless war
I shed him of his uniform
inspected his body
for bruises for signs
he had returned
unharmed I knelt
as if to worship
swallowed him whole eventually
the newness created
by oceans and deserts and time
wore off
we went back to our familiar
routine yellow ribbons
hug my pines
exoskeletons cling
to the bows I’ve carefully
knotted
reminding me next time
someone else might
win