THREE SOLDIERS

THREE SOLDIERS

Saturday and the sun shines down
Upon two water guns squirting around
A valley between two cedar fences
And sneakered feet...running
Pressing on more than cut grass.

A red and yellow rifle, a pistol black
In the grip, small arms swinging forward
Under midday sun, small arms swinging back
Retrograde by way of a manicured pass
Side-by-side in movement.

Closer; barrel sweeps to gaited play
Turn on midnight moons of before
Returning boots to paths surrounded by water, old lahar, trees
Crops of tiny greens rooting into armpit, groin, and foot skin
A sweet but fetid smell, the flesh rolling off fungus soaked feet.

Black writhings on flooded ground; leaches
Muscles burning weigh steps down
Humidity and beaded apprehension glues fabric to limbs
Dips into "cools" of paddy mire
Patrols, sector sweeps, "all secure" checks from higher.

Waist deep crossings recalled
Men, women, "sixteens," dogs, "nines," and chases
Thick air, cobras, Aedes albopictus, and spider laces
Seeking, countering each between the moon's spotlight
Cats and mice at play.

Fear and bravado taste the same.

April water guns do emerge
Saddled on laughs, their corridor surge
Pistol leading the rifle slightly
Left turning to soldier by lightly

The past...