A Show Of Might Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Twenty years, a mighty sum,
Afghanistan, a battle done.
Not a win, but turning back,
Leaving dust upon the track.

Iran's path, a shorter span,
But no clear end, for any man.
No easy way to say goodbye,
No clear foe beneath the sky.

A sixty-day door, now shut so tight,
Exchanges are small, day and night.
Bases hit, in lands afar,
A scattered, burning, distant star.

A narrow strait, a watery gate,
Can't be owned, just meet its fate.
Contested ground, a constant test,
Putting warriors to the best.

Is it a game, a show of might,
That Washington can leave the fight?
Or a tangled chain, a path now set,
A war to fight, and not forget?

What makes a war, it seems to say,
Go on and on, day after day.
No clear end, no final scene,
Just endless struggle, sharp and keen.