Faye Sizemore


Mornin’ smell
of biscuits…
startin’ to swell
Bacon fryin’ in the pan
Birds hearldin’ the morning in
Mommas’ voice… ‘git up… it’s light’
but I slept in a foreign land
in the cold damp sand last night
Awakened this morning with a sweaty brow…
said to myself… ‘Son, you ain’t home now…’
Baghdad is behind and it was a gruesome grind
Fallujah was a piece of work done in time
Saddam has been flushed from his hole
Didn’t they say that it was our goal…
I am tired and hot and sweaty
and I need to go home
… Momma’s got breakfast ready…