The Fowls of the Air

I took my first steps onto the beach.

Bullets flying by like angry bees.

The water soaks my clothes

Trying to pull me down to its murky depths.

I use the body of a slain comrade

To stay afloat as I wade to shore.

My feet reach dry land and

I make for cover.

Too late.

The fiery metal hate pierces

My chest and sends me down.

By some miracle I

Land on my back.

One last time I stare up at the sky.

No birds overhead.

No blue, no sun, just dark clouds.

I’m so scared to die.

A coldness that starts in my feet

And crawls up my body

Makes me more fearful.

I feel it taking me.

The Earth is wrapping its hands

Around my body.

The darkness shadowing my eyes.

But suddenly, before the gloom swallows me

I see it.

A bird.

White, with strong wings and divine feathers

Of glorious description.

It looks down and I swear it stares right at me.

I take my last breaths.

The blackness overcomes my worldly gaze.

But the fear has left me.

Taken away on the wings of a fowl.