War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

letter before I leave #2

on the phone the other night:

you: just x days before I leave. barely time to sleep. barely time to get laid.

me: go for it. it’s what you need.

you: sleep or sex?

me: both. it’s going to be a long tour

you: told my parents the other day, if things go pear-shaped, bury me at home. in the village. beneath the tree. in the little churchyard. the little churchyard next to the open prairie. where my grandparents, my great-grandparents lie. the place that fills with white flowers every May.

me: fawn lilies?

you: who knows? I’m not a flower guy. just know what I like.

me: not Beechwood with the brothers?

you: nope. want none of that. no 21 gun salute. no brass.

me: who’ll wear your silver crosses? your mother, your sister, who else?

you: don’t know. haven’t had time for love. no time to muckle onto some chick. too busy on Ex., 3 tours. too tired. hey there, sorry. gotta hang up. the guys are at my door. taking me out on the town. getting me hammered. I’ll call you later. before I go.

me: be careful. have fun. lots of fun.

bye.

bye.

click

soldier, all night I couldn’t sleep. for more than 2 hrs at a go. thinking about you. each time I woke I saw your eyes. blue. crystalline. water I could drink and drink. eyes I saw in the sunrise that morning you picked me up at daybreak. drove me into the city. you so amazing in your deserts. your beret. I had to pinch myself that for a few hours you were mine.

then when I finally managed to get to sleep. around 4 am (0400 hrs!) I dreamed you came to me. lay a silver cross. a purple ribbon. gently. across my naked breast. I dreamed you came to me. no longer tired. smiled. stayed awhile. slept. rose at dawn. got dressed. walked away. closed the door silently. as you left.



About This Page

The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled letter before I leave #2. It was posted here on October 10, 2009.

·

Complete diary archive