do not agitate
Re-calling my army days...
in the night the weeds
in the night the weeds, the ferns were
all black amorphous shadows that
rustled and creaked and we sat
among them listening to
the quarrels of
as we broke regulations
lighting up a smoke, cupping
the cigarettes in our hands to hide
the glow of burning tips, waiting, rifles
cold on skin, for the next detail to relief us.
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ), 2011