May 22, 2014


The couple kissing 
in the wild surf
seemed a good omen, 
at least, at first.

Though she was
the Captain's wife,
in the Sergeant's arms 
she had found another life,
knowing all along
it could not last,
like so many others
in the past.
They would both
be shipping out soon;
he to lead men 
into the sand,
she going home,
to find another man.

For the bugler, 
blowing Taps
was a sacred trust.
In the brig
the fat guard
had broken his friend, 
a situation
he would soon amend,
his own blood following
to his girlfriend's door;
he thought her too pretty
to be a whore.

After Pearl, he tried
to get back to base,
but was shot dead, 
falling into a sand trap 
where he lost 
his final race.
He was a good soldier, 
was all 
the Sergeant said.