War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

to greenman in country

for the one who sleeps on the front

ا‎ ‘alif ﺏ‎ bā ﺕ‎ tā I sent with transporters
steeled for convoy through assassin alleys,
“look after my baby boy” “look after my kids”
tattooed tough men made no eye contact
exited sweating mod tent for outside outside the wire;
under-breath, “see you buddy, stay safe”
“wait, can you take this to greenman?” I chased them
to their HLVD, them, it, armoured to the teeth
(“we have to radio them when they’ve hit an IED
platoon officer reassured, but didn’t mention RPGs.)

this morning bright, you, greenman FB’ed me,
in country you study ا‎ ‘alif ﺏ‎ bā ﺕ‎ tā, sleep cold:
“hanging with terps, my Pashto grows. tired ,
months, weeks, days to go. soon I’ll be an uncle.”


About This Page

The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled to greenman in country. It was posted here on December 06, 2009.

·

Complete diary archive