(untitled)

For my uncles Wayne and Bob, who served their country...

Eyes shut against the Sun's greenish stare
Dusty waves surround my empty frame
I've hung my hopes on the lost, broken glare
Of those languid forms now lying lame
Among the shattered landscape's last prayer

There is only silence save the windsong
A quiet trill slowing with my heartbeat
Perfect in timing, heartweak, spiritstrong
Relaxed as Cold penetrates the blazing heat
Cold whose fingers hovered closely all along

I pointed my gun where I was shown
Fired my rounds across the horizon
Or into crumbling buildings a tired groan
From collapse, among cities left barren
By fighters leaving us cut off and alone

And then, my ephemeral fellows and I
Rise up gliding above the still desert
Greet each other with a wry smile, nod goodbye
Eyes roam about the scene of our final effort
And upward fly.

Author's Note

All comments and suggestions welcome.