Lying on his back, one eye
covered by his filthy crossed
hands, the other wide, staring up,
unseeing, blinded by a mortal
fear, a white light leaving
an after image, an encroaching
blur of recent events replayed
backwards like a rewinding film
the hot projector bulb is burning:
his unit cross fired into oblivion,
light armored vehicle shredded
points of reference remove,
a foreign voice speaking as if
from another life demanding
the kind of information no one
in this life can provide.