PULLING GUARD AT TWO FIFTEEN
The sky is spread there black and wide open,
stadium-sized, the stars hot green are strewn
about like empties smashed beside the moon
and catching light when cars pass now and then.
Last tour in Korengal it was the same:
the nights that mold and gray before your eyes,
the nights that slowly pool and vaporize,
and when you hardly recognize your name
when Linden calls you on the net to chat
or radio-check, and share his nagging fear
about the shots fired somewhere north of here.
Do you think First Platoon could be near that?
The field below is motionless throughout
while Nix or maybe Jones is bleeding out.
- Date January 14, 2016
- Tags PULLING GUARD AT TWO FIFTEEN