Magazine article WLA ; War, Literature and the Arts

Afghanistan Moon

Magazine article WLA ; War, Literature and the Arts

Afghanistan Moon

Article excerpt

Tonight I reacquaint myself with it;

the round-faced whisperer

who speaks a language

I never learned.

The first time bullets

landed inches

from my helmet,

and spat sand in my face,

I looked to heaven, seeking angels,

and instead saw the moon

with distended eyes and pursed lips

which seemed to say, ssshhh...

The longer I stayed, the less I saw.

Clouds formed. The earth cast

its shadow. Every night the moon waned darker.

I focused on the black spaces between stars.

While I was home,

I forgot the moon entirely,

and spent a year believing

that night was absolute.

Tonight I feel the shadows cover my shoulders.

In the next tent, the staff sergeant closes his eyes and sees red trails. …

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