Army Mom’s Safe Haven

HARRY R. TRUSLER

SHE BINDS MY WOUNDS

All men know grief, the whip that drives them on,
and when it cuts too deep, each has his way
to ease his heart and hold his pain at bay -
Some to their mothers run, till it is gone.
To me, the Sea is mother and is home;
Impulsively, with loving hands of spray
She binds my wounds in bandages of foam.

Written by Harry R. Trusler