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THE LAST STEP

Had enough time to cry
"My God"
as the innocent track
leapt up in a moment
of sound and fury ~
and the jumping mine
cut him in two
at his pubic hair line.

And in the dark shadows
on the sides of the track
his friends all retched
and gently reached back,
pulling their bayonets
to prod the bloody track.

Fighting down their fear
and wanting to run,
but knowing if they did
they'd be dead, every one;
feeling for the trip-wires
and the shining prongs,
inch by inch all prodding
the leaf mould and the slime.

John A. Moller
Whiskey Two Company RNZIR

 

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