The Afghan Thirteen by RL Brown
The pulse is weak,
a vanishing vapor,
Thanatos grins when
breathing ceased.
Death's grim triumph-
of the Afghan thirteen,
fallen, betrayed,
left behind.
A country's demise
by the hands of a few
won't be forgotten.
America's heart bleeds.
Hope hurts and hope heals,
shattering the grip of hate-
past and present repeat.
(1776)
Published by brontebrown2
Rhonda Bronte Brown is a National Board-Certified Teacher and retired teacher/counselor whose work has appeared in Better Than Starbucks, The Trouvaille Review, Meat for Tea, The Orchards Poetry Journal and The Best Haiku 2025 international anthology and several online journals. She holds both a BS and a Master’s degree and writes children’s literature and poetry exploring nature, SEL, and STEM.
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