To: All Msg #94, 08:37pm Mar-29-91 Subject: Poem: Baghdad on My Mind [Cross posted from Pe

From:    Annie Lamb
To:      All                                    Msg #94, 08:37pm Mar-29-91
Subject: Poem:  Baghdad on My Mind

[Cross posted from Peacenet:  mideast.forum]


						  Baghdad on My Mind

The war came gaily wrapped        One night my daughter telephoned.
In flags and yellow ribbons.      I heard my grandson
It was a quick, surgical war.     Laughing in the background.
We saw no flaming children        "He's taking a bath," she said,
Screaming down the road.          "He loves the water."
Not this time.                    I pictured my daughter
Only the headlines ---            With her cordless phone
Bombs dropping.                   Watching her baby
Valiant pilots                    Splash the water.
Doing their job.                  "I was at a meeting," she said.
We did not see                    "About the war.
The bombs that went astray.       A man was taking notes.
We did not see                    When it came my turn
Mothers and children              I told them I could not imagine
Dying on TV                       A mother in Baghdad
Or the fathers weeping.           Trying to raise her child.
It was a clean, surgical war      And then," she said,
A beautiful war                   "I cried."
Of flashing lights                Later she peeked
streaking the nightly skies.      At the man's notebook.
											 Next to her name
Here at home                      He'd written "Mom."
The days were clear and sunny     "What do you think?" she asked,
And people talked                 "Was that a put-down?"
About the drought.                "No," I said.
Lawns were turning brown.         " 'Mom' is a good word.
In Baghdad, the paper said,       If all the moms
People were drinking              Went out on the street,
Brown water.                      War would stop.
In Baghdad, a surgeon said,       If they told their kids,
He had no water                   'Don't go
To wash his hands.                Don't be a fool,'
Here at home                      There'd never be
The rain finally came             Another war."
Pattering on my rooftop
As I lay in bed                          --- Ruth Shapin
And Baghdad
Crept into my thoughts.
The bombs raining down
Day after day
Night after night.
A psychological war, they said,
Children unable to sleep
Mothers unable to nurse.