A long time ago, I wrote a poem after seeing a moving picture of a soldier in Iraq holding a child. This is not the exact picture–the angle is not the same, and the soldier is looking down instead of at the camera–but this looks like the same soldier in the same situation. Honestly, I hope this is the same situation, because what I first thought was blood looks more like mud and dirt in this better quality, larger picture. Comments on this picture talk about it being from the Washington Times, but I can’t find photos in the archives (the search interface suuuuuuuucks).
Anyway, the original poem is here.
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