The ghosts of American soldiers
wander the streets of Balad by night,
unsure of their way home, exhausted,
the desert wind blowing trash
down the narrow alleys as a voice
sounds from the minaret, a soulful call
reminding them how alone they are,
how lost. And the Iraqi dead,
they watch in silence from the rooftops
as date palms line the shore in silhouette,
leaning toward Mecca when the dawn wind blows.
With a master's degree in poetry from the University of Oregon, Army Sgt. Brian Turner - who now teaches English in Fresno - wrote frequent verse during his 11 months in Iraq
clipped from: www.neilyoung.com