Letter to the colonel (You are not your sword)

There are dead men to tuck in bed

You  could go too. 


You were right. 
You were not as good you thought.
We are no longer evil


You were not the major
You were not the captain
You were flowers to the brigadier.


I remember
“Lieutenant, look in.”
There is time to remember, now
There is space to remember, to rappel

It is now time
There is time
To turn the clear light upon yourself, David

Walk out the jungle, David

There is no flag for you in the the Flanders Fields

Leave the river bottom

You are free to carry children on your horse back.  

You love more than your soldiers. 

No stories

Everyone finds their poison.

There are machine guns to dismount.

There is a dog waits you

There is a towhead child on your left,  a pit on your right

There are no angels no devils.  

David, Mistah Kurtz, he dead.

Most sincerely 


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