George E. Snyder

CANDLE LIGHT

Awarded: September 15, 2003Mortar illumination flares,
swinging overhead on parachutes,
reflected in her eyes
like candle light.
We would sit alone,
on a blanket,
hold hands,
whisper,
and touch.

On the perimeter
the staccato sound of machine gun bursts,
fired at unseen intruders,
beat no faster tattoo than our hearts.

War is cruel
And plays cruel tricks on lovers too.
I never saw her again.
Never again did we
hold hands,
whisper,
and touch,
nor did I ever again see
candle light in her eyes

There are many things worse than death.
Battle wounds will kill you,
or they will eventually heal.
Other wounds never heal.