Saturday, April 29, 2017

Freedom--By Tom Davis--United States

Freedom

Brown leaves, curled and frost covered
Crunch beneath my feet
Morning air crackles
Its freshness burns my nose

By a fallen tree, I sit
I turn for my father
He is not there
I cradle his Winchester
Shafts of light beam down
Dotting the forest floor 

Ringing echoes down the hall
I swing my feet to the floor
I rise to face a cloudy mirror
Eyes, empty as a beggar’s cup
Stare back,
Turning, I stretch to my toes
And grind my fists into my back
I plod the cement floor
To grasp cold bars

Another day begins

In his younger years, Tom Davis served as a Special Force Combat Diver. It seems to him that he spent more time on, in, and under the water than as a landlubber. This and other adventures he has written about in his memoir, The Most Fun I Ever Had With My Clothes On: A March From Private to Colonel. http://www.oldmp.com/davismemoirs

2 comments:

  1. Well written, Tom. Your poignant images draw me into your experience, an excellent example of 'show, not tell.'

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  2. Dear Tom,
    Quite a day begging, I like it
    Unique descriptive writing.
    Yancy

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