Even though my ears are being warmed
by my folded arms up covering them
the edges and the lobes are bitter numb,
forearms have forgotten feeling,
fingers immobile frozen stiff,
underneath me pebbles and stones
feel like jagged boulders
pressed against my side and back
From below, my belt loops feel
like fence links with my
pants stiff of piss and shit
like medieval jousting wear
warmed only when relieving myself
down to my socks rolled over
the tops of my shoes frozen
by sweat and yesterday's relief
over the laces crusting them
permanently tied till Spring
I reminisce of the secure warmth
as my buddy and I waded in the Mekong 'bush'
before the ugly 'swish and plup' sound
from a AK-47 found him, not me
These days are freezing cold even as
shards of warm sun pierce down
giving an occasional ray of hope
The black of night comes colder still
with that insidious veil of fear
of not seeing another sunrise
not seeing my buddy or those
who once shared my love
Will they know how cold
my last minutes were,
when my last breath hovers
as frosted vapors carrying my soul,
rising from this 'cold' Earth?
A truly chilling poem.
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