LATER CONTRADICTIONS
I drive through the Newport base
car bearing husband's sticker
A squadron of fresh-faced teenagers salute
My heart lurches, well knowing
to what hell they are bound.
wondering how many will return.
Up the slick steep Providence hill,
a break from a long day at work,
a long-haired teenager in torn jeans,
spies same proud sticker,
raises the one finger salute,
shoves words I don't want to hear
through my frost-covered windshield.