When Standing Up Against Genocide Makes Me A Liberal

The current ratio of dead civilians to combatants is only 2:1, my dad says.

It is considered normal when each soldier has four dead to their one. 

Two is nothing—a string of bad luck. 

Wrong place, wrong time. They should have planned more carefully. 

Should have followed the rules, followed the sirens. 

I passed my parents' neighbor today felling trees 

in the field with his son. I remember when he was born, when they carried him 

home. I watched them slowly make additions to their home: 

a new garage, a new John Deere, a work van, and now, today, an excavator. 

His son was bent at the waist, receding hairline in view. 

I wonder if he has children of his own, if he would consider it genocide. 

My neighbor offered to cut down the tree limbs on the dogwood out front. 

They encroached over his property, over the Jeep 

he paid more for than his own home. He told me if I ever need anything 

to let him know, that they have more guns than they can count. I notice 

the bare trunk in my front yard as I pull into the drive. There's a local artist 

who uses a chainsaw to make art out of tree stumps. I imagine my neighbor 

taking it upon himself to do it for me, leaving a bald eagle and an American flag etched 

into the wood rooted deeply into my piece of land. I think of the cross—

how it took two pieces of wood but, in the end, all four of His limbs were forced taught. 

I wonder if the mother blames herself, wonders how she ended up in the wrong 

place at the wrong time, as she cradles her children in the street. 

I think of my daughter safely in bed. How many casualties justify war? 

How many bullets does it take to create a work of art? 

Our whispers of gratitude behind closed doors are louder than protests in the street.

What if the civilians are your children and the combatant your spouse? 

2:1

When you tucked your children into bed tonight, did you thank God for sparing them?

If one child breathes their last breath tonight 

and we shut our eyes tight

did it even happen?