The Green Time

The Green Time

All day we trudge the muddy trail
Cold rain pelting helmets
Dripping down hunched necks
All day this muddy dance.

In the green rain muzzles flash
Tumble a man down
The crimson pool unpainful.
As he sleeps
A man with bandages wakes him
The immense clarity of shock
Quieted by the sweet kiss of morphine.

Give me a joint, he cries
And the smokey heat
From the papery stick
Calms him, the bandage
Bright red and heavy.

Lifting him
Steam rises from his jungle fatigues
His big dark eyes unblinking.

After the medevac crew haul him in
Cover him up,
Make room for more
We gather our gear,
Take one last look, move out.
Patrol, jungle, ambush, monsoon
Goddamn this war, this war rain.