Soldier Dies

She felt the beauty and compassion of being there.

It hasn’t left me.

I can feel it inside.

Comes to leave

leave slowly

Leave a shadow.

No, I won’t be lonely.

She shivered.

No, I won’t be empty she prayed.

I’ll remember all of this.

She tried to promise herself.

I’ll cling to every moment.

He is my soldier buried,

I so wish he could be besides

Tender thoughts passed through her.

I love him so.

Tears came.

More tears came.

She knew he lay dead and buried.

Never would she be able to see the image of his bravery, 

those final moments when he had to do and die.

Ammunition volleyed and thundered

when In honor he charged.

Dismal sleep–he slept, ready to be dead.

Dying is made a rare gift for some. 

For me?

Deep in trenches, glare, flies, hot wind, 

a great sun rakes, sweat, grit. 

Bullets twang, hit the wire, hell’s a frying fire, airplanes moan.

 

A black spot broods over fellow soldiers drunk with fatigue.

I am going mad because of the guns.

I could never have imagined this.

I will die if you forget me.

Pain turns into poetry.

Desire for reticence fights against a desire for vengeance.

Old eyes are full of memories. 

Hold tight to feelings.

It’s hot, its all sun.

 Too still the air.

The wind is dead, my messenger dog is dead.

Distance to the horizon is endless.

Day and night, day and night on sand

Over splintered rock my feet move forward

Horizon to hell is nearest.

I charge

to die.