Dredging up Ramadi

Note: The new chaplain at NMCB FOUR posted a question on the US Navy Chaplain Corps facebook page. While digging through my old files to find some stuff for him, I stumbled across this. I don't think I've ever shared it before. It is a poem of sorts about Iraq, suicide bombers, and images we cannot un-see.

The throat tightens

anticipation of a dream

lost

returning

to haunt.

The air conditioner

shudders on and off

in darkness

it booms

and shakes the bed.

An image

imprints

blood-red

sharp, crisp

unforgettable

a memory

never true

a fear

unrealized.

The desert sun

spares no one

not the wounded

not the dying

not those who thirst

not those wet with tears.

Terror strikes

a plume arises

a mother’s anguished prayer

mingled in smoke

to burn the eyes of God.

Seeking relief

the mind conjures

an oasis.

A glistening pool

of chlorinated azure

where gathered

A younger man

gazes upon

a flash of red

full-figured

leaping

to reach him

an act of love

so desired

so untrue.

Reality unsettled

a restless night

settles in.

Wonderful hopes

terrible fears

difficult to let go

when the weary

slumber.