Afghanistan Poem by Jeffrey Obomeghie

Drops of blood on a leaf
The sky wears a copper smile
No birds sing

A gentle breeze blows
The smell of cordite teases the nostrils
Dead quiet

But if you listen very carefully you will hear a gentle moan
air hissing through gritted teeth
Pain can be a friend
reminding us of how little time we have left.
Or an enemy
reminding us of how much time we have left.

Drops of blood on a leaf
Near the tree, combat boots
A dog tag, a water flask
A small American flag clasped tight between his hands

Our brave dead.