Scenes from a parade

Icon without candles

Small town parade, this is,

with its homemade floats

and balloons and flags and

fire trucks and marching bands

and smiling politicians except

this one is led by a silent woman,

red-eyed and tear-stained,

grasping a $6.99 K-mart

picture frame to her chest,

an icon created by a land mine.

Parade soldiers

They turn the downturn corner,

not sure what to expect and

then surprised smiling

at cheering thousands riding

a sea of waving flags.

Choppers

They weren’t welcomed home

as heroes, were they, some spat

upon but most ignored, avoided.

Today they ride their choppers

in their current uniforms,

black jackets, blue jeans,

black boots, sunglasses,

bandanas instead of helmets, and

we cheer, remembering now

what we forgot then.

The left leg

He walks an ungainly stride,

lopsided slightly but barely

noticeable, a left leg of silver

metal replacing the one

buried in desert sand.

But he walks.

On Saturday, my oldest son and I attended the parade in downtown St. Louis to welcome home the troops returning from Iraq. Veterans and families of veterans marched north from Busch Stadium on Broadway, turned west at the Old Courthouse (scene of the Dred Scott case) in the shadow of the Gateway Arch, and along Market Street to Union Station. A month ago, two local men dreamed up the idea of welcoming area troops home, and the idea of the parade was born. It lasted more than an hour. 


Related: Iraqi War Parade: St. Louis Hosts First End-of-War Celebration by Huffington Post.