Up for anything
and out of it, mostly.
The Dirty Dozen?
Double it.
Occupy veterans,
some AWOL marines,
Swampy’s best mate’s
mate, turned informer.
On tour
and staying there,
like secrets
no campfire soothed.
The searchlights
we were used to.
Not desert rats
for nothing.
It was the noise,
white, whole nights of it,
a Christmas crooners CD
turned up to eleven. Continue reading “While Shepherds”