Encounters Of War Poem by Robin Bennett

I remember my first encounter with war.
That huge grey floating city sailed in
and swallowed up my husband whole.
I hardly recognized him that last day.
Dressed in a fancy blue uniform, and
a grotesque nazi type haircut.
He looked almost Annapolis like in a way.
Standing on deck forty stories in the air,
as he waved goodbye. There was no
way his eyes worked that far, so it
was all for show anyway.
Now I was alone with a small baby,
and full of fear. I never could do alone very
well at all.

Before he left to the other side of tomorrow,
I was reminded that his boat had all the fancy
weapons the USA had to offer. I stand corrected
again. It's not a boat for the thousandth time, he
growled. It is called an aircraft carrier. I shall remember
that the next time he refers to me as a writer.
I'm a poet. There is a distinction.

So I sat for two years watching our son grow, while he
stood on a boring ship near a desert in the east. Fighting
over oil really. What a cause to justify loss of life. Keep those
cars running and full of gasoline!

I longed for each letter from him.
No matter how careful, the were full of dust and
sand. I wish I could have washed away the filth and the pain.
Then the ink would have bled. I'm an expert at bleeding ink
and it's spatter patterns.

I'm a disaster at a life stuck on the pause button.