Art and Craft 2018: 22

The Scoutmaster

I can name the sleep
that bivouacs the troops:
the absolute cointoss between trust
and despair. In France
I saw it beside me, getting up
to take a piss outside
the town we believed the forward
unit held. Tonight, I check
that the embers are cold. No beasts:
June warm and the camp loud
with human smells. Tonight I stare
down the war I'm sure is coming
for these boys.

after Normal Rockwell, "The Scoutmaster"