I
My uniform
is decorated: a Bronze Star and Purple Heart.
My uniform
took me to Bosnia, Iraq, Afghanistan.
My uniform
brought me back home.
My uniform
covered wounds.
My uniform
covered my body.
My uniform
identified me.
My uniform
is so interwoven with the fabric of me
I can't just take it off.
II
A man, who has not served,
eyes an easy distraction.
He pictures a wave of support
from those still waiting
for the Steel Industry Revival
while Rust Belt Democrats squirm.
He pictures a military cowed
by the magnificence of office.
One tweet and no one's
talking about his son-in-law.
III
People saw
my uniform.
People saw
what I did.
People assessed
my skills, my ability, my fitness.
People did not
see my gender.
People did not
care about the cost of my transition.
People care
when the military is under-resourced.
People know
the army is more than its hardware.
People saw
my uniform.
--Emma Lee
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