Thelma N. Shutters

TRADING PLACES

I put myself in a mother’s place
Every time I hear a soldier dies
I can feel her tears on my face
I hear a mother’s mournful cries

After her child goes off to war
An empty house she must roam
Tries to do her everyday chores
Never daring to leave her home

Breaking news on her TV screen
She watches explosions in Iraq
She searches every horrid scene
For her child’s face in the attack

Day in day out week after week
Begins to feel she’s gone insane
Never ending tears on her cheek
Staring out of that window pane

Knowing she won’t be prepared
Afraid to hear her door bell ring
Each time saying a silent prayer
Afraid of that news it may bring

Something parents must realize
Before another war we approve
Looking through a mother’s eyes
Politics in war we must remove

Would each one of us volunteer
Looking in these mothers’ faces
Take on her grief and be sincere
Would you or I trade her places?