James McE. Love

ADRENALINE

Tracer lit the night
While the screams of the dying
Were drowned out
By the exploding shells

No longer cold or wet
No thoughts of hunger.
Just a surge, a rush
The body’d come alive.

Author’s Comments: It is said that war is made with long periods of boredom interspersed with frantic bursts of activity. I can tell you… It is!