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Flashback

by Brian Francis



Drops dripping from high above
I can hear the jungle's noise.
The river drifting slowly by
As with my mind it toys.
Memories of yesteryear
Are creeping oozing out;
From deep within a time gone by
A cry, a shot, a shout.
I see the scarlet red stained cloth
That once was green and warm.
I feel the wrenching, piercing pain
Go through my chest and arm.
I see the jungle burning hot
As the fire storm is launched,
A burning mass of green and brown
Where the enemy was stanched.

08/28/2003

Posted on 08/28/2003
Copyright © 2024 Brian Francis

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Don Coffman on 08/30/03 at 01:52 AM

Strong and well written, it leaves a definite impression.

Posted by Maryellen Lebeda-Parra on 09/14/03 at 04:22 AM

very strong. most comfortable and warm. very vivid.

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