Where They Had Passed Poem by Gert Strydom

While on patrol
I found a buffalo’s empty cranium
left by hyenas, jackals,
vultures and other carrion eaters
and the section camped
and made a small fire right next to it.

We heated some food from our ration packs
in a fire bucket, killed the fire,
spreading sand over the burning tablets
and slept under a starry sky
with weapons close at hand

and the next morning enemy terrorist tracks
were treaded right next to my head
where they had passed without noticing us.