From Chris in Kandahar, 15 October 2009
I am currently out in Afghanistan, and watch daily as soldiers from all nations are taken on their final journey from Kandahar Airbase home to rest.
Author's introduction to A Soldier's Winter
Nothing about war is peaceful; nothing about dying is graceful...but maybe in those last seconds, that last breath, that last blink.....peace finds you.
A Soldier’s Winter
What is this cold?
Where is this white
Is this real, or just a fleeting moment of life, of my life
I see no longer the greens and reds,
Where have the autumn leaves gone?
This must be the first signs of a new winter?
I see trees, I see sky, I see clouds,
All winter white,
Can I reach upward to touch the falling flake?
I try but never seem to connect,
And as I lay there staring at the sky
is my body cold ?
As I lay I hope I am not forgotten
But here I am alone.
I close my eyes and try to think of home
is this really happening to me?
This isn’t real this is only a dream
I never have felt this way before, cold, weak and exposed,
but strangely at ease
With a tear I draw my parting breath
I’m looking down on my body below
I understand now this is winter….this is my winter
Chris, a soldier serving in Afghanistan.
Click Here to see more Soldier's poems.
I am currently out in Afghanistan, and watch daily as soldiers from all nations are taken on their final journey from Kandahar Airbase home to rest.
Author's introduction to A Soldier's Winter
Nothing about war is peaceful; nothing about dying is graceful...but maybe in those last seconds, that last breath, that last blink.....peace finds you.
A Soldier’s Winter
What is this cold?
Where is this white
Is this real, or just a fleeting moment of life, of my life
I see no longer the greens and reds,
Where have the autumn leaves gone?
This must be the first signs of a new winter?
I see trees, I see sky, I see clouds,
All winter white,
Can I reach upward to touch the falling flake?
I try but never seem to connect,
And as I lay there staring at the sky
is my body cold ?
As I lay I hope I am not forgotten
But here I am alone.
I close my eyes and try to think of home
is this really happening to me?
This isn’t real this is only a dream
I never have felt this way before, cold, weak and exposed,
but strangely at ease
With a tear I draw my parting breath
I’m looking down on my body below
I understand now this is winter….this is my winter
Chris, a soldier serving in Afghanistan.
Click Here to see more Soldier's poems.