From 2007
One night in 1982,
startled by images of her younger brother on a surgeon’s table,
foot amputated, sable against the war-dirty floor,
she prays for his too-young legs.
That morning in 1982, news of the mujahedin ambush surfaced
and she brewed the tea frustratingly weak.
Combat unit slaughtered four days ago,
he’d survived on piss and grass and eastern lights – angels he insisted.
Stumbling on him, a second unit - Iraqi - was killed on site, and another corps -Persian - discovered him alive.
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