I sit on mountains overlooking fields of poppy
My butt as comfortable as it can be, sitting on a rock
And before I take in the sky
I look down at my dusty boots
And look beyond them
And pay attention to the ants marching in the dirt
And think about us
There are flowers of no bright colors here
In the short grass that grows out of the dry earth
And the bees tend to them the same as the brighter ones
Down in the valley
And I look up to find God
To see if He is watching me
And marvel that beneath such a serene and soul calming blush of sky
Soldiers step on pretty innocent flowers and
Carry guns looking for people to kill
And farmers’ children watch them with quiet contempt and curiosity
Admiring and fearing the black weapons of death
Thinking that if they should get one
They could kill too
And an old woman curses sensitive soldiers with a smile
Reminding them of grandmothers at home and in graveyards
And they miss home harder
In this beautiful land that they hate
And must commit murder in
To get back to love
May 15, 2004
Here's your chance to be a critic! Please do! I welcome the feedback! Thanx again for stopping by!
