Mary Harwell Sayler

WINNING THE WARS

I pray to God quite often now,
confessing whatever comes to mind
as I remember my whole life over
the intended target of each flight.

The night before we fly I write
my family what’s on my mind,
so nothing left unsaid carries over
in regret. I want to set right

the mistakes I’ve made and wash
the killing memories from my mind,
electing to forgive each foe hovering over
me. My heart feels grave tonight.

The papers hardly mentioned how the
15th made AF history. I wouldn’t mind,
except it’s heartening to hear – over
and over – that we’re doing all right

according to the nightly news
or press releases keeping us in mind.
Someday when this war is over,
people might know how hard we fight

to stay alive inside ourselves,
sifting impediments from the mind
without conceding, “It’s all over,”
as dark thoughts drift and fall. Light

comes in how you look at what you
see, so I keep looking with a mind
on winning momentous battles – over-
looking each moment of mere slights.