ABOUT THE WAR

Forgive me if I don't reply
To the wartime action inquiry
The horrors that have transpired
Tend to keep me mired
In nightmares of dreaded loss

Why the fascination of friends who died
Some in burning choppers fried
Of roam plows stripping the trees
Deaf to environmentalist pleas
About forests stripped to moss

The tales of mine blasted feet
Are not those I wish to repeat
Or a body's burning flesh
Caught by a Zippo in concertina mesh
Or receiving a grenade's toss

I would rather spend quieter hours
Planting gardens and smelling flowers
Watching grandkids play
Enjoying each new day
In dreams where peace is boss

©Copyright July 24, 2002 by Fred B. Baker