Dodging Bullets

 By Steven Wade Veatch

 
The summer I was eleven
I learned to do more chores.
I did the dishes, vacuumed,
and mowed the lawn.
It was a part of growing up.
 
Mom put the clothes basket
by the ironing board.
She plugged in the iron.
It was time to help.
 
She sprinkled laundry
using a green glass Coca-Cola bottle
filled with water and plugged
with a metal stopper full of holes.
She ironed and I folded
while we watched I Spy on TV.
 
This is what it was like to grow up:
doing chores, helping mom, making forts,
and playing games, while other sons dodged
bullets—overseas—in the jungle.
 

This poem first published in
The Cuddy Family Foundation for Veterans
Poetry Journal, Volume 5, March 2023.