my entrails kept slipping through my fingers
as I tried to hold them
as I tried to put them back
they dripped through my hands
and fell to my feet
uncoiling and rolling
rolling
past silent friends with outstretched fingers
blood spattered feet
with insects upon them
I wept through my hands
trying to put them back
but there was no going back
my intestines kept unrolling
past sweethearts holding hands
babes sucking their fingers
as their mothers gently rocked them
blanketing their feet
their insect laden feet
where boys played and girls turned their backs
pretending not to see them
not to hear the hoops rolling
from their dust encrusted fingers
from the guns in their hands
there were flowers in their hands
entrails at their feet
and I wept through my fingers
and tried to put them back
but I couldn't stop the rolling
couldn't put them
back couldn't stop them
from screaming through their hands
and the trucks continued rolling
behind angry marching feet
there was no going back
I could not see my fingers
as I closed them over the gut at my feet
I felt only the blood on my hands the earth at my back
as it started its slow rolling from the grasp of my fingers
The horrors of war, the sacrifice of those who've given their all in battle, the repercussions of coming home, wounded from the fight: effectively penned, Roxanne. Thank you for remembering those who serve(d).
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(((HUGS))) and love, Karla (USAF, '83-'85)