|She kissed the plastic star||She kissed the plastic box|
|they gave her when||his father gave her before|
|Her son came home from the war||He went back overseas|
|in the cargo hold of the DC-10||to a dental practice in D.C.|
|And sat penitent||And sat impenitent|
|on the long white bench|
|at the funeral home,||at the Relocation Bureau,|
|Footsick and heartsore,|
|And watched as they||And watched the wall as they|
|Draped a red-white-and-blue blanket||Bagged and dragged away|
|Over the face they wouldn't||The face she couldn't|
|Let her see.||Let herself see.|
|And almost, but not quite, she|
|kept from crying.||cried.|
©1987, 1997 Alan P. Scott. All rights reserved.
Last updated June 17, 2001.