The Poetry of Miles Athey

Colors Of Death


Is this a dream . . . or am I dead? All I see is . . . a field of red.
I don't feel pain . . . have I been shot? Red field fading . . . to an orange dot.
My legs won't move . . . where is my sight? Orange to yellow . . . now bright white.
Medic, that you . . . is someone near? White fog changing . . . slowly to clear.
Don’t walk away . . . medic, come back! Now many colors . . . changing . . . to . . . black!