| Listening Post |
| The air was cold and paper thin |
| Each breath was deep and fast |
| A chill to the bone far within |
| Damp skin had a purple cast |
| Rustling leaves on the jungle floor |
| The snap of a trip wire flare |
| The perimeter guards closed the door |
| Tracers streaming everywhere |
| The LP yelling “rawhide” |
| As they run for the corridor |
| Knowing they’re safer inside |
| As the duster light explores |
| © 6/28/10 Terry Sutherland |
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