The paratrooper
clad in chlorophyllic green
stoic in resolve he leaps
jettisoned from lofty perch
spiraling in space
tumbling through time.
Airborne
born into the air
delivered to the dirt
he dies, decomposes
a casualty of consequence
body brown and rotting in the rain.
Wars are waged and seasons change
and the world spins on in spite of all.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
The paratrooper
clad in chlorophyllic green
stoic in resolve he leaps
jettisoned from lofty perch
spiraling in space
tumbling through time.
Airborne
born into the air
delivered to the dirt
he dies, decomposes
a casualty of consequence
body brown and rotting in the rain.
Wars are waged and seasons change
and the world spins on in spite of all.
So it's more like winter now, at least here at school. The first snow happened on Sunday, and another comes tonight. I wrote this a little over a month ago as the leaves began to fall and decided I ought to post it to make it seem like I'm not completely in a dry season for writing (Spoiler Alert: I am). But here. =)
Request permission to use this poem