Whopping of the Blades

Blue skies, cool breezes,

the wop of the blades in your ears.

machine gun in front of you,

dreamscape below.

Racing clouds,

dancing thru the fields.

ammo belt slapping in the wind,

sitting on bulletproof vest.

It’s here and now,

now and then.

memory flashes back,

sun dancing thru the blades.

4th of July,

or is it an attack?

brain says relax,

voices say hide.

Clear skies,

gentle breezes.

rest my soul,

to the whopping of the blades.

Guns up,

friends are dieing,

every day i remember,

the whopping of the blades.

I cheated death,

behind my gun.

I came home,

my friends didn’t.

Here and now,

now is sometimes then.

I miss my friends,

death is a bitch.

Go to the wall,

have a drink.

cry a tear,

to the whopping of the blades.

© 3/15/2006 by Fred Alvis

Webmaster: Thurman P. Woodfork

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