WAR

WAR

Now that the war is over,
Will somebody be Old Glory
And wave in the breeze above my corpse
And my tear-racked blood-stained garment?

Tunes of glory ripple in the wind
Now that peace has come to my soul
And my lacerated, sacrificed flesh
Is eaten up slowly by cracks in the earth.

Now is the time to shriek a horrid
“what was all this worth”
To the wretched gods that made me.
And the trees that envelop and shade me with embrace
Will not look me in the face to answer my inquiries.

The sunset tonight is fiery and strong.
It fades into the teary eyes of a young man who once loved me,
A man who tried to save me.
He stares into the sunset, trembling at my memory
And trudges off the battlefield alone.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 1983
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED