Second Cycle - Waiting

Reading the poets of World War I, waiting in VietNam. Notice the same shaky light of the flares and the fields where we fought lying shell-shocked and bare at An Loc and the Somme. Far away - distant machinegun fire, a grenade sounds a dim, mournful thud, the soft rumbles and bumps the artillery makes and hell for those where the shellfire rakes fields of grass - to blood. They are killing us here - But slow - slow - death came much faster then; killed in the jungles, grasping at hope, killed by the numbers, or barely afloat at Akaba and Tay Ninh.

Copyright © 1996 James M. Hopkins
Image: "Troop Truck", oil on canvas, J.M.Hopkins, 1990