The war rages on.
We hold our position as all hope lies in the last desperate hours of a
desperate battle, even as the sun appears over the horizon beckoning all
to the new day.
Tired, hungry, dirty and worn, we hold our position, but we cannot hold
our thoughts from thinking of home; of warmth, of kindness, of love.
We hold our position even as the morning breeze blows gently across the
few blades of grass left in the mortar-scorched ground.
The enemy approaches.
We hold our position and our breath as the mid-morning approaches,
bracing for what might be the last hour, the last minute in a new day.
We hold our position as thoughts of God wander through our minds.
We see the bright lights as we hold our position.
We look down to see we held our position.
Larry Seymour Copyright 2008
