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The Cough |
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Deep in the jungle,
I can hear a bird,
the crunch of boots,
a foreign word;
a hiding heart pumping,
its red blood racing,
breathing… relieving,
his destiny facing;
his teen lungs working
in… then out, in… then out,
the rustle of dry leaves
whirling… swirling about;
another bird, calling,
a whispered prayer,
a gook’s eyes searching
for anyone there;
a muscle flenching,
grass blades bending,
a twig snapping,
the crickets unending;
the enemy peering,
leaning… poking,
bayonet gleaming,
silent… provoking;
a sun slowly dying,
a cough… then another,
the enemy twirling,
detecting our brother;
a wet barrel pointing,
its trigger squeezed,
the bullets… life ending
the war gods appeased;
a grunt’s mother weeping,
her desperate prayer,
imploring the heavens,
“Is anyone there?” |
By Nancy L. Meek
Copyright 2008
Listed April 19, 2010 |
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About Author... Nancy is the proud wife of William “Billy” J. Meek, a Vietnam War
Veteran, who served with the 1st Cavalry Airmobile Division, 11th Aviation
Group, 228th Battalion, Co. B.
Nancy's website |
| It is illegal to use this poem without the author's permission.
~~ Send your comments and/or use permission request to
Nancy. ~~ | |
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