I'm always profoundly affected by the stories of soldiers. Imagine being separated from everyone and everything you ever knew and loved, to fight for something you may believe in or not, to the point of profound suffering or death. I can't. I will never have to be a soldier. So this is my contribution, however small, in memory of the men and women who have fought in every war, or are fighting one now.
I die for them/their reason this morning. My
last sound (mortar round) rotten ground flies up over my
last meal (sullen wet cigarette) rises up over my
last dream (unseen daughter, song, her
mother’s long dark hair, laughter) cries up over my
last night (unlit stars, no God –
remember Him now, remember this;
my broken boots).