Sunday, January 26, 2014

'today, while we worked the fields
bombs fell gracefully from the sky
changing the ground from earth to fire.

gramma paused her harvest
to shake her fist and
curse the iron raptors'

'just the other day,
a farmer raised heavenward
as he stepped on a mine.
he walked a short length
before resigning to his fate'

'these are the memories of my childhood
as we played in the wreckage of war,
as death rose from the ground
and fell from the sky'

- compiled from the voice and poetry of an old friend

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