Night Sweats
by Michael A. Maggiotto
|
A timpani pounds in my chest,
suffocating the command; eyes
shut on darkness see green shirts oozing
salsa crumple to the paddy mud; ears
deaf to the rustle of sycamores hear
hissing shells and sucking gurgles; fingers
numb to the sheets that cover me tighten
web tourniquets above severed limbs;
I breathe a morning dew of napalm's
char until I stand with them again
|
 |
|
|
Copyright © 2024 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors. No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author. |