The sound of a
Huey
the tick of
a clock
Both signal
a warning
what is and
what’s not
The flight from
DaNang
that hour till
dawn
Your life in
the balance
to die or
hang on
And leave for
the bush
face painted
and dark
Second hand
motion
that tells you
to start
As medics
unload
both the wounded
and dead
The rotors
keep spinning
these moments
— of dread
(Dreamsleep: June, 2026)
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