To Manhood In a Foxhole
The silence...
The stillness
Akin to shadows, long fingers reach
Warriors and I
Lie here in the hallow
Fear…beside us, beseech!
Where is the enemy?
Whispers seem to ring out
Lips from my fingers, keeps head from arise
To quell eager peering about
I am a boy
But, this night, man become I
I and my buddies…
Too young, aren’t prepared to die
Onto their arms I do grab
Keeping their lives from growing all too short
Then, echoes…echoes. ..Breaking the silence of the still
A loud shot! Reports….
The one…
Then two!
A hail of missiles, I bring up my gun
Dirt spraying from every direction, which way do I shoot?
What I do not have…is…
Time! Time to think
I throw up my machine gun, blindly, not looking…
Squeezing the trigger, RAT TAT TAT… in frenzy, RAT TAT TAT…spitting instinct
Adrenaline rushing, surging!
Beads of sweat freefall to roll
Fingers tighten, muscles tauten
Madness besieging to depths of soul
Then my redden swelling ears take heed
From behind comes most frantic, deafening scream
Victory, exhilaration, hopes of my enemies all relieved!
It’s Johnny who’s been hit! Red river flows his crimson streams
I’m sobbing; I’m cradling him and shouting “YOU CANNOT DIE!”
Then I whisper…come back to life “Johnny, please, Johnny please"
Unnoticed to me, the stillness returns once more and then a paper…a letter… silently
floats to the floor
It’s the words like bullets that hit me, penned from his wife…
“I love you so much, the war will be over in just a short time; make sure you come back to me…
Come back to me alive”
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2011
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