Stand Guard

There's always war somewhere. With any luck
It's far away, not in your own back yard.
With any luck, no one you know is scarred
By shrapnel, or left face down in the muck
With other victims. I was thunderstruck
To learn that soldiers had been living hard,
Believing life is precious. We stand guard
For what we care about. Sometimes we duck.

I never joined the army, fired a gun,
Ate rations in the field, marched silently,
Rammed bayonets with fearsome urgency
Into a straw man, or a proper one.
I have stared vacantly into the sun.
I have my father's wit. I have stood free.