Will Not Fall
by John D. Berry
Heavy diesel still wakes me in the night.
I do not like to move about
When a hunter's moon is bright.
I tell myself, I did not fall.
Sinking back to sleep,
The channel 7 chopper,
Still sends chills to my feet.
I wonder, slicks or guns.
I tell myself, I did not fall.
Still I see them on the field,
My brothers strong and brave and clean.
Then distant thunder snaps me awake again.
I tell myself, I did not fall.
Fireworks I can do without,
Especially green and white and red.
My woman and my child do not wake me,
With a touch, but say my name instead.
Waking, I tell myself I did not fall.
Every night, I dream,
My brothers, sisters, still strong and bright and clean.
Waking, there is work, duty, still to do.
I tell myself, I will not fall.
The day will come,
When I walk with them again.
Across maps of dark and light green.
But No, not yet!
I will not fall.
volume 10(3)
This poem is copyright © 2006,
John D. Berry, all rights reserved.
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