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Hamsi

 

Dull heat and dust choke my soul,
as bright red life drips, drips
Into this place of brown and waste.

The shallow smiles I see,
are only for our money.
Their sullen stares behind bright veils
are more the timbre of reality.

Dried ochre was once his life
that I can’t scrub away
no matter how hard I try, and try.

And I’d never have been here,
If it weren’t for their hate
Of the green and joy
I’ve left behind.

—Lt. Col. Sean Michael Salene, U.S. Marine Corps
2007

 

 

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March 2023