Monday 24 December 2012

Yellow Mist: Original


Yellow mist floating, its rarity deadly,
furling flections pointing down mouths and,
wet lungs and bleeding, slowly filling,
with a “hoff”, a cough, another piece lost.
This way is misleading for those still breathing,
will not breathe,
yet the frost under foot soothes,
as men pant coolly, as chemical burns.

I lived for my whole life time,
rasping and searching for a breath.
The day I should have fallen went on and on.
I can’t see past my body,
I look as far as my death but cannot see further.
The love I have still burns yet I can’t breathe,
can never breathe, will never breathe again.
My great grandson asked me:
“Did you die grandy?”
So I told him,
as my consciousness drifted in and out of the battlefield,
that he was but a dream I had while… I was dying.

Rising up to the sky I felt all of my children,
possibilities taken?
Where I went to I don’t know,
sometimes all I see is whiteness,
and someone says:
“Hey you. How are you?”
I never quite know how to answer,
because at once I had lost and gained so much.
I still smile though as I did when I fell that day,
yellow teeth gritted, looking for security.
The love still runs deep,
for all that came after, fulfilment of dreams.
My comrades still watch me smiling,
their wide smiles stretching my patience,
but I still love life.

As we all dance together,
my breathing eases,
and now… yes, I can see "my happy place".
Time will always be with us,
but I don’t care anymore,
I am free now.
I still taste the gas,
my love breathes deeply of it,
for all it has given me.
I will not go back.

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