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Red blood splashes on muddy terrain:
ambushes   booby traps  fatigue jackets
waiting for the enemy... 98 degrees in the sun,
encountering and returning fire; life barely there
and  war’s  longest refrain plays on.

There is no jury within hostile grounds,
despite patriotism caught between triggers
as shadows of  night weep for freedom’s balm;
no courtroom, unlike before,  to defend prisoners 
of the Wall, or Mekong… their scraped turmoil 
diluted over canned loaf and juice, unheard.
Young knees deep in enemy ‘s clay…
a voice ringing, “ Shoot!”, a motto of allegiance
for homeland, while the instinct to live
kicks, rams into higher gear… young soldiers
too focused to see the eye of fear.
Where is the jury within hostile ground?
Only heaven can discern a topsy-turvy
sense of man's unrighteousness...

As war’s longest refrain plays on, and on.


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John Hamilton's Upside Down World Contest
Re-posted 3/7/2017
Written 3/21/2016

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