Iraqi Girl  (A Sonnet)

In my youth I found myself in Iraq
the hot air surrounds a new growing calm.
Every breath is pressed by my sweat stained flak.
Fighting, hoping we find this salaam.
A little girl bright smile so pure and fine,
who was walking to school for the very first time.
Her lite skirt reflected a sun-light shine,
and for that moment her eyes met mine
before she headed to class without fear.
The Marine that I was is no longer there,
knowledge was the key for children to hear.
I think of the girl with rugged black hair
who finds herself alone on this school day,
while my daughter departs to find her way.