Lakeview Beech, Battlefield, Usa Poem by Renee Marie

Here, in the cold-blue evening-quiet of South Lake Tahoe,
ease and gratitude expand and retract.
At first, the air is uncomplicated, thin, damp.

I drift back to Kabul's
snow-peaked mountains,
just like these.

I hear the MEDEVACs coming in.

The billowing, gray sky still hovers
even after black tire-smoked clouds undulated their way
deep into the lungs of forever where we learned to breathe
while running, regardless of foreign particulates laced with hot rubber and feces!

In South Lake Tahoe clean hope appears, at first.
Prevailing in the distance is an undulating political madness
hijacking even THIS sanctuary.

Did I survive The Surge in Kabul
only to live in a perpetual battlefield of corrupt power,
emboldened by a stranger enemy?


© Reneé Marie
1/5/17