Mark I. Kirkmeyer


Footsteps echo back
Normal for midnight
But light shines through large observation windows
Aircraft parked at terminal
Cold and Silent

I have my duty
No time to think
Lots of time to think

A continent away it started
Fanatics acting not of anger

They are not all that way
Wonder about my friends from the Gulf
How do they feel?
Sorrow, anger; not joy

Step in the command center
It’s on the news.
The twin sisters have fallen;
The man sliced open

Mind running
Thinking of numbers,
Why do I do this?
Estimating body count
Must return to duty
Don’t think
A monster
Thinking of numbers
Not of people
maybe I’ve seen to much
What will happen when the job is done?
Tears overwhelming as I relax:
How many losses?