Bunker
lashed down by
dark green blood of hostile earth
oozing out in thorns and lichen
reclaiming the face of
this pimpled hill
staring across the border at its estranged kinsmen
He sat here
snow white winter embrace shrapnel greeting
blood sunshine machine gun song radio love
crouched hole in wall sight shadow enemy perpetual
and for a moment heard the silence of a future spring
grey glint of unbuilt highway
sweeping cheerfully across the peaceful front
to cluttered chai shop and reverent memorial
with a jeep full of tourists
and a girl to gingerly pick her way through goat scat
to look out that same window and wonder about him.
May 10 09
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