Faye Sizemore

(Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

The full moon
hung motionless
in a dark sky…

Guarding the bridge
with orders to let
no one bye
There is a scent
… a scent of death
wafting on the breeze
patterned moonlight
… falls dancing
through the leafless trees
Under the bridge
the water flows on…
looking for the Mekong
Keeping my guard up
… sensing action
will not be very long
Just a shadow…
a tiny little sound
Hark… enemy is around
Taste of bitter in my jaw…
red flashes in the moonlight
was the last sight he saw
Been the other way around
it would have been me
that hit the ground
Little did I know
that down the road
I would wonder why

As the full moon hangs
in a dark sky…