A Republic at War

I thought to greet the weekend with a recent poem I wrote. I hope that what it lacks in cheer it makes up for in brevity.

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                      A Republic at War

I had a dream that I was a citizen
        in a great republic, a land of free and peaceful people.

In the dream the threat of war played on a far horizon
        like heat lightning on the plains.

The trustees of a self-governing people gathered to deliberate
        in the modest halls of government.

Far to the east were great flashes of heat 
        and the representing citizens thought what to do.

In every flash the lives that war consumes appeared:
        the limbs and loves destroyed by fire—the dreams and treasure of the land

forged into weapons for the sake of the land— 
        like amputating a limb to save the body.

And they agreed, or through them, we agreed to war 
        and bit the rag and gripped the saw. 

But knowing as we did that this was war, that lives and ways of life,
        innocence and treasure must go into the grinder,

the representatives resigned and took their places in the ranks
        to bear as fellow citizens the mutilations 

of a necessary war reluctantly engaged.
        Then the dream ended and I was again awake.

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