The first American
ISIS beheaded
Was James Foley
Who a year before
Spent nights
At his sister's home
In residential Milwaukee
All the while, restless
To return to Iraq
To the incessant rhythm
Of the freelance journalist.
Whiling through quiet evenings
In a spare room
Overlooking the well-tended garden
I wonder if
He saw something persuasive
In that stillness
Like I sometimes do.
The persuasion of something solid
Like sitting quiet
At a busy outdoor cafe
Where sun encircling
Parasol shuddering
With occasional spring breeze
I watch the hurried movements of others
Contrast my slow draining coffee.
Maybe James thought that
At some cafe, somewhere in Milwaukee
But I can't ask him
Because he left Milwaukee
Went to Iraq
And was jailed
Tortured
And beheaded on live television