Time as Memory
Time
as memory
of a bootlace
...a cigarette
riding the horse
of war
soldiers
gone in a moment
mud
..blood!
just being so goddamned tired
going home
hating myself for being alive.
.....................................................................
...........................................................
It will be same same
for them...over in Iraq
nothing has changed
the danger and death
...... the remains,
......moments
hours
.......weeks
falling from minutes
toward
seconds in hell!
where do we go young soldier?
to home
or to hell?
what was the name of that damn horse
we rode?
so far away.
Horse with flaming nostrils
........sparks
burning our hands
as we held on for the ride
.......crazy damn ride.
I have forgotten so much
of myself...then
scars remain young Bro
...from somewhere
long ago.
©Caliber
3/30/03
Webmaster: Thurman P. Woodfork
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