On the War in Afghanistan

O do you see the irony—
     The irony that spans two worlds,
     From ours of steel to theirs of brick and lime?

They brought our mountains down on us.
     Now see their mountains fall on them,
     Ours bold in frailty, theirs strong as time.

They turned our skies against our peace.
     Now see theirs fill with holy war,
     Pursuing all their hordes with keen-eyed beams.

They cower, hounded by our wrath.
     From each horizon comes a bird,
     A winged death, streaking with shining screams.

We are the bald eagle.