Draft Notice

Inconspicuous paper,

deceive and demand–

a boy brings in the mail

to find a life in green,

dark script bares

far darker words–

what are my options

as the ink dries on his fingers,

like blood run down,

or casings raining black against the dawn.

Fields in the words

hold bodies broken,

but in the silent flight,

the flickering light–

a slower demise of

loneliness and stripes

surrounded yet

by wagging fingers; scathing scowls.

The smell of ashes

does not abate in breathing–

burn the scraps away

but your dearest Uncle has to say

you still have got to show.

2 thoughts on “Draft Notice

  1. The life and musings of many a soldier, I would think
    Surrounded, yet alone.
    Under pressure, and always with something to show to someone or the other! How they (or anyone) live it all, I wonder…
    But they do…and so can we..
    A moving poem…

    • Such is the harshness of life, only harsher when war is the bitter future. Thank goodness, I have to say, that drafts are no longer welcome in the U.S. of A…

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