"We do not want a war." JFK

GOD DAMN
violent concussive flames
silhouette a
smoking black mountain
with
sprays of raw dirty white explosions
shaking nervous bodies
underneath a gentle blue sky
where only faint hints of stormy weather
could be seen in a disturbing combat zone.
LATER,
i'm resting on my right knee in
a half squat near a hard-packed dirt road
surrounded by a score of uniformed
young men without hats holding safety-off
automatic weapons.
with side doors fully open a single huey helicopter
is flaring for a close-in landing while a
door gunner is resting his left hand on the stock
of an M60 machine gun, barrel pointed directly towards
the ground, eyes alert.
we are American soldiers far away from our home listening to the
wild thump thump of the rotor blades while waiting,
waiting for a ride out of this dusty doomed place.
i notice the dirt on my boots is red,
the dust is red,
the surrounding air is red.
my face is red,
the grass is red,
but my mouth is dry

and everything feels sad.