Dance to the Dustoff Waltz
Fear of flying no more
wounded
medevac swooping in
rotor blades whooping it up
in the key of A major
trembling violins and staccato horns,
rising.
Tracers red and green arcing
brass casings spent
sunlight reflecting
too bright, too bold, too much
no pain.
Blood sanguine and sticky
shimmering on hands, legs, abdomen
no pain.
On a litter, four men running
scrambling for their lives and mine
someone stumbles, goes down, I roll off.
It’s OK, I think, I don’t mind.
Just get me to the bird before she’s hit
get me to the supermarket, coffee on sale
get me to Reno, prostitution still legal
get me anywhere,
just get me the fuck outta here,
and they do
sliding me in next to our platoon sergeant,
swathed head to thigh in battle dressings
our very own mummy, moaning softly
I look to the crew chief, my eyes beseeching
lift off, lift off, lift off.
The bird does, and we don’t get hit.
We clear the tree line, joy surging
every cell, fiber, synapse, as
eagles vie with Valkyries for our souls,
and Wagner provides the overture.
by Founding Poet Paul Hellweg Copyright © 2014
VWP 2014 First published in Proud to Be 2014
Fear of flying no more
wounded
medevac swooping in
rotor blades whooping it up
in the key of A major
trembling violins and staccato horns,
rising.
Tracers red and green arcing
brass casings spent
sunlight reflecting
too bright, too bold, too much
no pain.
Blood sanguine and sticky
shimmering on hands, legs, abdomen
no pain.
On a litter, four men running
scrambling for their lives and mine
someone stumbles, goes down, I roll off.
It’s OK, I think, I don’t mind.
Just get me to the bird before she’s hit
get me to the supermarket, coffee on sale
get me to Reno, prostitution still legal
get me anywhere,
just get me the fuck outta here,
and they do
sliding me in next to our platoon sergeant,
swathed head to thigh in battle dressings
our very own mummy, moaning softly
I look to the crew chief, my eyes beseeching
lift off, lift off, lift off.
The bird does, and we don’t get hit.
We clear the tree line, joy surging
every cell, fiber, synapse, as
eagles vie with Valkyries for our souls,
and Wagner provides the overture.
by Founding Poet Paul Hellweg Copyright © 2014
VWP 2014 First published in Proud to Be 2014
Bio: Paul Hellweg is the Founder of this VietnamWarPoetry.com website.
For more info, please see his bio on the About Us page and on his Bio / War Poetry page.
PaulHellweg.com PaulHellweg.com/poetry
For more info, please see his bio on the About Us page and on his Bio / War Poetry page.
PaulHellweg.com PaulHellweg.com/poetry
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