From: Garrison Poems

Long nights
The tale of forbidden loves
Little joys
And forged leave notes

Washing the commander’s car
Mopping the corridors
And running errands for the officers
Now they have gathered under an ash tree
And behind the commander’s back-
A cigarette moves from hand to hand

As the smoke circles up in the air
With their curses
They can envy the freedom of birds.

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