Mary's Little Lamb
by Nathan A. Baker

Torn from her arms the eagle
Flies him to a foreign place
Her heart is with him there
She feels the arid dryness and run

Of sweat down his tired body
And the heave of his chest as weight
Is lifted and web-gear shouldered
Weapon ready his feet forward

She will feel the impact too
As metal-jacketed round from
Fifty caliber anti-aircraft gun
Explodes the morning's silence

Killing her camouflaged lamb
As he marches to the slaughter

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