The long dry grass slashed back and forth like fencing sabres; <br />charged by a thrusting wind, they parried left then right. <br />With fixed bayonets the voices of a pounding dry killing drought <br />assaulted and attacked my ears like a cavalry of dead on horseback. <br />He’d been watching me for days on end; his eyes never closing, <br />his most important finger never once moving. Gently caressing <br />his main squeeze, tickling a death wish like it was his friend. <br />I waited for him to sleep and then I ended his life; <br />without pain and totally free of guilt… <br /> <br />2008 © TS<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/five-seconds-longer-than-the-other-guy-in-the-crosshairs-of-war/
