Kathy McCarthy

PROTECTING MY SISTER

Every time I turned around
I saw her face,
Every child I saw die
Was for a moment her.

Sometimes in my nightmares
My sister was hit by gunfire.
Brown eyes became blue
And then were shattered
By this hellhole.

When I crawled into the mud
I imagined it as her blankets;
Curled up under them
As I read to her a story.

Upon my return
She was safe and sound,
Yet she had been with me
In Nam.

She should know
To keep her safe
I have to walk the path
Alone.