could I? would I? should I?

spysgrandson Poems

the privilege to ask these questions, was granted to me before the long black veil of night covered my eyes could I? the lieutenant gave the command and we all fired on them a platoon of us, against three pajama clad VC skinny as monkeys, minding their own business walking that trail, a thin rope through the jungle made by the feet of thousands before them safe they thought, so far from the foreign monsters--US would I? of course, and I did with 49 other night stalkers who then crawled with me to find our **** 100 elbows through the tall grass 100 knees close behind should I? we found them, each a riddle, riddled with a dozen holes apiece mangled flesh asking the question, was one of those red roses yours? did my round take off his ear? or sever his spine, or did mine fly somewhere in the dark night, where these sorrowful souls now dwelt forever could I? would I, should I? I got to ask those questions, and pulling the trigger, my fumbling finger answered all 3... the signal that moved it, the message that traveled down my spine from a place darker, deeper than the night the privilege to ask still there, a lifetime later, in waking dream long after the fallen became part of the grass we slithered through to see them before they could ask, could I? would I, should I?