Metal Storm

For upcoming Memorial Day – second in a series of Toritto’s war poetry

Little boy playing football

Summer sun reflected off a wheel chair
holding half the soldier he used to be
in half the body he used to have
the dent above his left ear now hidden in his hair.

His mother buys a popsicle and places it to his lips
while on the green little boys play, yelling as little boys do
soccer ball half kicked, veering toward the chair
as he lifts a withered arm, covering his widened eyes.

Little boy says he’s sorry, calls his brother asshole
and when he leaves, momma tugs the left arm
wound tightly around his face
uncovering the vacant stare and open mouth

emitting a soft sound
almost like her little boy
at her breast
so long ago.





About toritto

I was born during year four of the reign of Emperor Tiberius Claudius on the outskirts of the empire in Brooklyn. I married my high school sweetheart, the girl I took to the prom and we were together for forty years until her passing in 2004. We had four kids together and buried two together. I had a successful career in Corporate America (never got rich but made a living) and traveled the world. I am currently retired in the Tampa Bay metro area and live alone. One of my daughters is close by and one within a morning’s drive. They call their pops everyday. I try to write poetry (not very well), and about family. Occasionally I will try a historical piece relating to politics. :-)
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2 Responses to Metal Storm

  1. beetleypete says:

    Moving and truthful as always, Frank.
    Best wishes, Pete.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. jfwknifton says:

    Exactly. And so often for a war the politicians have long forgotten, now they are back friends again with the people who used to be the “ruthless enemy”.

    Liked by 1 person

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