Instant Noodles at Dusk
Dusk’s last breath puff up the curtains
in a flash of the post traumatic kind.
drapes the mountains in war paint;
Redwood generals’ shadows on attention,
and disorderly Pine infantrymen
struggling against the wind
(some broken, most wounded),
shattered limbs on display.
The war hero sighs into the bowels
of an instant noodles cup;
when he whistle-whispers untold stories
served on government-sponsored battlegrounds;
save spiders with hairy legs
that hang on his every word.