Crossing the bridge

By Michael

His face was purple
and it haunts me
Cheeks hung below the jaw
Bulging eyes
Hands bound

My truck crosses the Tigris
And I wish I knew him
So that I could attach something,
Some feeling, something more
than what it was.

Had I known him I might know
How much he loved his children
The pet name he called his wife

What a beautiful tragedy.
Such is life
There is nothing that can't be taken away.
Baghdad taught me this.

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Published on Saturday, June 6, 2015. Filed under: "Poetry"

Awards

September 15th, 2016

Comments on "Crossing the bridge"

On Friday, February 15, 2019, Jonas Robinson (848) wrote:

That sounds hard. Thank you for expressing this. A lot of people don't know the trauma that comes from being in the military.
On Wednesday, June 17, 2015, TropicalSnowstorm (1580) wrote:

Excellent piece, it is particularly effective in the way you humanize him in imagining the person's loved ones and back story. Well, well done! Ciao, T/S
On Monday, June 8, 2015, Nimue44 (289) wrote:

A glimpse of death maybe? Oh dear. Maybe it's backwards. A glimpse of a life you'll never get to know. It's sad.
On Monday, June 8, 2015, Michael (15) wrote:

you could say that, this poem has both literal and figurative meanings to me. I came across a dead body when I was in Iraq. His hands were bound and his face was a sickly purple. He had been tortured by AQI insurgents. That's where the first stanza comes from. The rest is basically reflection on how I felt as I was trying to cope with the abject horror I was feeling at the time. Thanks for the comment.
On Monday, June 8, 2015, Quietus (75) wrote:

This is really chilling and insightful. Thanks for sharing.
On Sunday, June 7, 2015, Phalanx (628) wrote:

You remind me of my brother, in the best ways.