A quiet rolls in on the eastern front
Bellowing smoke and clouds slowly consuming sky
A mixture of drunk heat and weariness casts a spell
A heady high of cold remorse anger and hunger
Upon the shore the men and women brace for impact
Necks lashing forward in a fraction of a second
Recoiling for seconds after impact at the eye
There is a calm and a repulsion knocks senses back
The front end damage vivid
The wastes of the rear sighting dilemma
A shining sight this travesty of a second lifetime
At least none are hurt.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
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