The poem below is of war, a war like all wars bathed in blood. Those that return home from war are never the same, some broken mentally, some broken physically, too many never again see the light of day. Those that do are haunted by images burned into their souls.
Enough said by me, let's turn our attention to Charles and his thoughts. . .
War is hell, and the Vietnam war was a different kind of hell for the men–some of them still boys–who went there. This is another poem about that war, inspired by Tim O’Brien‘s book If I Die in a Combat Zone. Thank you to all Vietnam veterans! We appreciate your service and sacrifice.
A Dog Begins to Bark
In the purest black of night
No stars, no moon, no city lights
Ambush is all but certain
Jogging from foxhole to foxhole
Grenades clumping at our belts
Then lying on our backs to wait
Hating the waiting, the wondering
Will we live or die
Not wanting to die in the dark
Moving again, making too much noise
Down a winding dirt road
A dog begins to bark
Voices speak urgently
From inside shadowy huts
As we move quickly past them
Moving in single file
Reaching to touch the soldier ahead
Fearing being lost and alone in this place
Zigzagging through graveyards
Dead enemies under piles of wet dirt
The man behind me emits a muffled sob
Trying to think of other things
The grouchy neighbor back home
Somebody shut that damn dog up
Copyright © 2013 C Mashburn
Picture courtesy of Google Images
Thank you, Charles, for sharing your inspiring words. I encourage everyone to visit Charles's blog, Marbles In My Pocket, for daily inspiration.