Supernova
Sand;
It clogs my nose.
It dries my mouth.
I cover my mouth with a scarf
of red, white and blue.
Special operations;
Under this discipline,
I am trained to navigate
The deserts as a lone wolf.
My mission is simple;
I am to place beacons
For air-strikes in the heart
Of enemy encampments.
Sneak in and sneak out;
Nothing could be easier
Under covers of darkness and storm
Where sand flies and strips bare all.
Covered from head to toe,
I am safe from the flurry,
And with the force of the wind
I hear naught but my thoughts.
My tunnel vision shows me
Buildings on the horizon;
Smoke rising from chimneys
Made of dirt and clay and rocks.
This is hardly the first time
I have done such a thing.
I confirmed enemies elsewhere
And torched their barracks whole.
Not a soul sees me as I
Slip between the buildings.
It takes me several minutes
But I reach the center at last.
Two men walk outside with rifles.
They are night patrols, surely.
I sneak around and silence them.
I recognize the faces from briefing.
Two Taliban members in sight,
I radio in the coordinates.
Airstrike confirmed soon
And I must make my escape.
[T minus fifteen minutes]
I take a moment to rest.
I hear a door creak open
And swivel around, gun trained
Eye level on a young boy.
He looks barely seven.
As I approach with killing intent,
He rubs his sleepy eyes and smiles.
In perfect English he says hello.
The cold of night sinks in.
He stands still, then suddenly
Runs inside with widened eyes.
I chase after him knife drawn.
[T minus ten minutes]
Left? Right? Straight? I panic,
Thinking if he wakes anyone
I am surely to be discovered
And will not escape in time.
My heart skips a beat as
He pops out from a room
And in his hand, his little hand,
He holds a thing not seen in weeks.
A candy bar; a chocolate bar
Completely untouched and
Still fresh, he tells me,
Once again in words strangely clear.
[T minus six minutes]
I stand dumbstruck;
I laugh aloud at my actions
Then cover my mouth with my hand
Turn silent and then remember.
Franticly, I radio in
Headquarters, mission abort
Civilians within perimeter
Please advise. Repeat...
Static;
High grade equipment. Sure.
But I feel that even if it weren't
There would be no reply.
[T minus three minutes]
Goosbumps all over me,
I dry heave and fall
To my knees, and finally
My breakfast escapes me
The child bends over me
With overflowing concern,
That drowns me in words
Salty as my tears, and bitter.
My pack feels far too heavy;
I take it off and throw it away.
My scarf is choking me;
I loosen it and it falls to the floor.
[T minus one minute]
I tell the child to go
Get close to his parents.
He says his dad is out on watch.
...
Then let us play a game.
I tell him to go hide
Anywhere he wants to.
He has a thirty second head-start.
And I promise
Wherever he goes,
I will follow.
-
Hundreds of thousands of miles away
An aging star explodes.
I've not seen it nor heard it
But I know it was there.
I hope that one day
Someone looks up
And sees the bright light
And smiles
And thanks the star
For all its light
And all the joy
That his death brings.
poem by William Blake Beckett
Added by Poetry Lover
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