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
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem