Death Of A Soldier
The little pieces of brain departed his skull
At the behest of a bullet from a rifle in the
Jungle canopy. They landed in a rice paddy
To think their final little thoughts away from
The cranium they called home lo these 24
Years. What does an exploded brain think in
Its last microseconds? Does it feel the impact
Like muscles? Just how does a bullet feel to a
Brain in dissolution pursuant to forcible entry?
Did the soldier know his fate at all? He re-upped
Last month to make a career of service. Cerebral
Pieces once his brain never saw death coming.
Yet he always knew deep in his gray matter it
Could. A body bag is coming to carry him home,
Minus tiny brain fragments glistening in the paddy.
G. Louis Heath, Ph.D., Berkeley, 1969, is Emeritus Professor, Ashford University. Clinton, Iowa. He enjoys reading his poems at open mics. He often hikes along the Mississippi River, stopping to work on a poem he pulls from his back pocket, weather permitting. His books include Leaves Of Maple, Long Dark River Casino, and Redbird Prof: Poems Of A Normal U, 1969-1981. He has published poems in a wide array of journals, including Eunoia, Episteme, Black Poppy Review, Lunaris Review, Indiana Voice Review, Whispers, Dead Snakes, Raw Dog Press, Weird Reader, Literary Yard, and Houseboat Literary Magazine.
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