Poetry

(after Ernst van Heerden)
 
Somewhere in the bushes
we camped on that cold winter night
and later in the darkness
the cold icily penetrated our bones;
 
on military patrol we had to know better
but to break the cold
we lighted a small fire
while men at first lay ready with their rifles
 
and we knew that the fire pointed out
our presence and our position to the enemy
but after days without any enemy contact
and being tired of the ration packs
 
a fire was made
where the wood hissed and crackled
and a snake came burning out of its hole
as that hell burned
 
along with worms, insects and beetles
and when we dragged another log nearer
worms and ants curled in the powder ash
as they went into that blazing fire
 
and we looked at this scene
with hands stretched out
over the comfortable heat
when an enemy rocket grenade
 
buzzed nearer and drew a bright red arc,
exploding in a hellish glare
and it destroyed almost everything
to bits of sand and dust.
 
[Reference: Uitwissing (Obliteration) by Ernst van Heerden.]