Mark I. Kirkmeyer

FIRST EYES ON KILL

Seven pounds
That’s all she weighs
Curled up in a ball
On my lap.

The room lit
Only by monitor:
Distant streetlights
Dim lighting

Wind howls
Outside
Bringing a storm
Temperature drops

Memories
Flood
Through my mind
Red light

Weight uncomfortable
Engines feather
Changing the sounds
Soon out

Rocking with motion
Green light
Scurry
Fall free

Dark Sky
Line feeding
Risers brush ears
Parachute opens

Jet blast
Flips Parachute
Check up the skirt
Stabilize descent

Drop ruck
Thump on ground
Release Parachute
Charge weapon

Projectiles pass
Popping
Sound barrier
Explosions distant

Reaction
Instinctive
40mm locked
Thump

Loud explosion
Auto fire bounces
On shoulder
Run for cover.

Sit
Beside a bull dozer
Catch breath
Reload 40mm

Fire buddy
Lands nearby
SAW buzzing
Silence Reload

Aim
Squeeze
Pop
First eyes on kill.

Empty stomach
Dry heave
No Time
Drive On.

Author’s Note: Though my meds have stabilized my condition it still amazes me how easy it is for these memories to sneak in. How mundane everyday things can trigger, explosive memories. Love y’all at IWVPA – you have been key in maintaining my (in)sanity.