I know how the marsh rat feels,
reeling below the hunting owl...
after last night under helicopters'
hard blades.
The round moon fixed me as a point
of eye-glint on the war field, where
red lights blinked overhead.
Then heavy missiles came,
came tilting like heads of archangels,
came silent through the doomed night,
came hard by the round moon.
But morning came sooner,
bringing with it a deeper dread: sunlight,
normality.
"I awake, but my soul is in dreams." -- William Blake
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