Geronimo.. I Heard the Moon..
One-dimensional route,
a paratrooper sight,
of the 1st battalion,
501 parachute Infantry Regimen
serving for being a soul of a manly cause,
sentry at night
a code that never reached me,
guard, twelve to three AM...
Shadows my companions,
and an owl's cry, while sprites
become familiar, senses subside,
illusions, a snake's rattle
yesterday I saw my partner's burial,
and I nod my head
sideways, try to see the scene,
in perspective, was it a battle?
He left.. Where cherubs (they say) ,
wait for souls, I smile, aren't they dead?
A tribute to this foolish deity,
a wed soldiers embrace
betraying their brides, a guile
as if they wanted it to happen,
astounding, flowery end.
Foolish victims of necessity,
I remember the unfinished poker game,
Was I that had a deathly draw?
Four aces, a six,
A song he mumbled
as the sniper's bullet,
an ochre were his eyes after,
I embraced him, his brains to spoon in..
Irrational, futile attempt,
have you seen such? My platoon
on first demand, a primer notion,
Geronimo, my Arizona sands dune
was it my friends that called me last night,
I heard the Moon whispering,
my girl said that,
I heard the rain calling my tune.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
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