An enchanting place
Where Franklin had lost his leg
But two days before

A silent line of warriors young
Move as if upon padded feet
Their presence still unknown

The call goes out
It is but a hush
A gesture nothing more

The weary soldiers lay down upon their packs
A burden of eighty pounds or more
A brief repast to eat or take a drink
Five ten fifteen minutes
No more

But wait another alarm
A warning is repeated down the trail
Along the jungle floor

Booby trap

Booby Trap

The tiny prong of the traps emerge
As mushrooms from a summer night’s rain
By my knee my elbow
Head and shoulders all around

White toilet tissues are left to mark the spots
As soldiers rise
Slowly Cautiously
From their resting place

Silently without a word
They move onward from this enchanted place

And as I left
I turned to see
Snow upon the jungle floor
#

Copyright 2001 - Edward Ewing

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