I saw her walking in the park,
alone but smiling happily.
I gazed upon that wondrous bulge
pronouncing her maternity.

Her eyes were closed perhaps in prayer,
clasped hands around the child to come,
face glowing with new mother's pride.
I stared at her, bewildered, numb.

If I'd been smart or fate been kind,
this lovely woman would be mine.
As teens we dated, fell in love.
That smile of hers surpassed sunshine.

But restless small town boys like me
believed our country needed us.
I graduated, joined the Corps,
then kissed her last on steps of bus.

I wrote her often for two years
until deployed to Pakistan.
The slaughter seen, how can one love?
I lost a leg to Taliban.

Returned too late to reclaim her,
for she had wed an old classmate.
I still can't feel, the scars too deep,
but in the dark I curse my fate.