A POEM OF WAR, KOREA

I remember the morning
The clouds below my lofty perch
They drift like a river
Spilling through the mountain gaps
And into the valley

I remember the day
The hillsides stripped of life
The valleys green with terraced crops
A land, so ravaged, and witness to such pain
Yet starkly beautiful

I remember the evening
That last protest of day
Ignites the sky and shines fiery red upon the cliffs
A sky turning dark
The darkness a cold steel gray

I remember the night
Darker than any darkness I ever knew
A sky with more stars than I have ever seen
And then the flares, the many flares
They breach the peace, and remind me

We are at war......

©Copyright 1993 by William H. Schroeder