In Whom Do I Trust
Me mate and me
out on patrol
eyes peeled
for any unrest,
scanning the roofs
for sniper's bullets.
A car cruises past
thumping hearts
till it speeds on by
danger imagined.
A rock - skirted
for fear it's real,
every step
a threat.
A typical day in Iraq.

Then in a vision
comes a woman
in black,
laden with goods
fresh from
the market.
Weighed down
she stumbles
dropping her wares.
Quick as a flash,
my mate races -
across the dusty road.

I meet her look
stomach churning
something's not right
something is wrong
the body is old
but the eyes are young.

I scream
as the
water melon
in his hand -
into fragments
of man - woman
into pulp of
flesh and bone.

I rock myself
to sleep
that night
full of
full of doubt.

TELL ME; how
can I defend
when I know not
who to trust?

TELL ME; how
can I fight
when I achieve no good?

TELL ME; how
can I fight
in a war that's unjust?

HOW can I kill
a woman
in cold blood?

Answer me.

For I do not know
I just don't know anymore
I just don't know.

I was struck by a comment on a Radio 4
program, that, how can you trust when
you are befriended one day and become
the enemy the next. It instilled an
image in my head - the darker side of
imagination spoke and this poem was written.