Right after high school, I eagerly signed up at eighteen, they gave me a gun, a rifle, I marched to a cadence song before dawn, felt so accomplished to be a soldier, they told me I would go to war,. and there I went without hesitation,. to the land of the red sun and sand, I sweated, I bruised, didn't hear much from anyone, combat memories flashing, crushing me like a weight of too many bricks to count. Here I am, back in the states, I have no home, standing in front of a rusted barrel fire, sometimes I sleep in the homeless encampment, with one weary eye open, today the chill of late November is settling in my tired muscles, my searching for comfort. The hot coffee from the mission warms my hands, at one time, briefly, when I came back, I hopefully thought the U.S. would take care of me, and as I pull out my crumpled blueberry muffin from the mission pantry, I wish I could even dare to dream of peaceful dreams on a warm quilted bed, as I hold my little mixed breed dog closer, the passing traffic is speeding, as usual, no one waves or smiles, a small white Baptist church. I hadn't much noticed before, I hear its Christmas bells ringing... Lord, oh Lord, help me- I went, I sweated, I bruised, in the land of the red sun and sand. ~