I walk in-between the rows
Careful as I brush them not to
Topple the stalks, as the sun
Beats down I stop and turn
My face skyward, too.
How and why, it makes
Little sense to me as I lead
The patrol, a city of refineries
In the distance back-lit by
The sun; the Zardak Mountains
Ringing us far, far in the distance.
And as we exit the field I
Still think how and why
This field of sunflowers
Lives here; one beautiful wave
In a sea of ugly.
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About anotherwarriorpoet
Mathew Bocian served as a Captain in the United States Army with the Stryker Brigade and was deployed to Mosul and Tal'Afar in 2004 - 2005, and to Baghdad for The Surge in 2007 - 2008. He left the Army in 2012 and now uses his poetry as a way to heal from the traumas of war, while attempting to express to readers the realities of war. He is the recipient of the Bronze Star and Purple Heart, and holds a master's from the Graduate School for Public and International Affairs at the University of Pittsburgh.
Reblogged this on The Word on the Street Corner.
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