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A poem that some may find apt, or not…

The War in the Air

Howard Nemerov

 

For a saving grace, we didn’t see our dead,

Who rarely bothered to come home to die

But simply stayed away out there

In the clean war, the war in the air.

 

Seldom the ghosts came back bearing their tales

Of hitting the earth, the incompressible sea,

But stayed up there in the relative wind,

Shades fading in the mind,

 

Who had no graves but only epitaphs

Where never so many spoke for never so few:

Per ardua, said the partisans of Mars,

Per aspera, to the stars.

 

That was the good war, the war we won

As if there were no death, for goodness’ sake,

With the help of the losers we left out there

In the air, the empty air.