For Now, but Not Forever

Somehow they caught me after the ambush...I guess I wasn't lookin'.I know I didn't belong in the grass by myself...I should have been bookin'.Now I'm sittin' here in a bamboo chair with the sun straight in my face,and I'm tied head to toe, and propped so I can't turn my head away.I've forgotten how long I've been here...must be about six and a half.It was back in '68 when they got me, and they were havin' quite a laugh.I got separated from my outfit somewhere up around the hill,and if I know that Second Louie, I'll bet he's wonderin' about me, still.A couple times I saw some more americans, but it has been a long while.I never got to speak to them, so I don't think they saw me smile.'course I just caught them from the corner of my eye...I couldn't move my head.For all I know my loved ones, and the government, think I'm dead.The camp commander says that the end of the war will happen pretty soon.He's been sayin' that for a couple of years...maybe in a blue moon.Now and then I get to walk around with a guard always at my side.But when the Red Cross representative shows up they make me hide.How long have I been here, now? The guards won't say a word.Funny...but the silence is penetrated now by a motorized bird.Quickly untied and hearded off to shelter, but I decide now to make a break.I run into the open yard, and yell and wave, but the bird flies on...my mistake.Locked up in darkness with no food for four days, I guess.I've lost about 60 pounds since my capture, and I know I look a mess.I have limited strength as the quality and quantity of food is very low.But I'm hearing different talk now...does this mean I get to go?The camp commander wants to talk to me...to say the south has been defeated.And soon I'll be released, but first sign a paper that says I was not mistreated.I tell the commander that the paper is crap...anyone can see I am not in good health.He says it doesn't matter, the paper is merely a formality...sign it, or else.So I decide it really doesn't matter if I do what I am ordered to do under threats.I look the commander in the eye for a moment, and sign the paper, with regret.But I havn't given up all my senses, and to a short-lived, straight-faced shame,I may have signed the papers, but with a close eye you'll see it not quite my name.This has had a lot of viewings, and I guess people are hesitant to say anything...but it's just a poem--it never happened to me. Please leave comments. Written August 27th, 2001 © on Aug 27 2001 03:13 AM PST   0 • 10