original poems by john allen

Tomorrow The Enemy Comes

We sit quietly in the night,
knowing the battle comes
with the morning light.
We are prepared.
Weapons readied, plans made.
The rest of the night,
will be spent in contemplation
and a search for mental peace.
Letters are written to loved ones
to be delivered only if
tomorrow's battle proves our last.
Peace has been made with God.
Knowing glances and handclasps
exchanged with friends in the unit.
Quiet words are passed between
those who have become
closer than brothers.
I look quietly around the room.
The faces of my companions
show no fear,
only quiet resignation.
Some wear slight smiles,
perhaps lost in memory
of a mother, or a brother,
or sister, or a lover.
We are ready.
A band of warriors.
Sure of our resolve and
the righteousness of our cause.
We had better be prepared,
for with the dawn's light
the Americans will come,
with their tanks and their planes.
And then, we will die.


© John Allen March, 2007

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