by Paul Hartal
I did not learn from books
About the horrors of war,
I was soaked in them
On the killing fields
Amid exploding shells,
Frightened and savage.
I did not watch movies
To see dead bodies
Lying on green meadows,
I saw them with my own eyes,
The raging fires,
The engulfing flames
In the blazing tanks.
The sun was shining,
It was a balmy
And beautiful day
As the summer wind carried
The nauseating smell
Of the burning flesh
Across gentle hills.
From:
Paul Hartal, Postmodern Light; Montreal and San Diego: Orange Monad Editions, 2006, p. 85
Copyright ©:
2012, the author
Last updated March 10, 2012