Desolate city, where tents and greenery
Merged the war into a Kodak sign;
Two years ago a white army came,
Today the jungle weeps its rain.
Here, docks and shops, the tools of war
Now rot in iron disarray;
Names, signs and roads are grass,
And no soldiers pass.
The airfields rot in angular lines;
Flowers bulge from metal and coral roads.
A chapel with a rotting crucifix
Is sentinel to the solstice.
Green, green, like all the pasts we know
Fixes the color to the stabbed-in eyes.
No known resemblance directs the scene
Camouflaged death and green.
Perhaps a letter, lost, or forgotten here
When love and ships fled to an armistice;
My own name from a ragged roster stares,
At my flowering nightmares.