Near The Karbala Gap Poem by O.S. Brooks

Near The Karbala Gap



The day killed my inertia with swiltering heat
The sun sat on my shoulders
I wished for winter to come rescue me
Letters from home shielded my soul
We grew my gunner and I
Death has a funny way of making life happen
I wonder what he's doing now
Soldiering far off in another man's war
Wishing he'd brought along his harmonica

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