Burn by Matthew Borczon

the world
turns blue
through my
wind shield
on this
snow less
morning I
drive  past
bare trees
looking like
Ohio wood
tip matches
and if
today I
can find
the will
the flame
a little
of what’s
left over
after 50
years and
a war
I can’t
get past
with its
and ghosts
and painful
and PTSD
if there
is any
of the
old me
left somewhere
inside my
head  then
I will
light that
match and
laugh as
I watch
burn to
the ground

because sometimes
you need
to scorch
the field
before anything
new will

Matthew Borczon
Matthew Borczon is a writer and nurse from Erie, Pa he was stationed at Camp Bastion in 2010-11 Serving in the busiest combat Hospital in the war at that time. His experiences there and his life since coming home are the major subject of his work. His work has appeared in Dead Snakes, Rasputin, Fried Chicken and Coffee, Busted Dharma, Revolution John, Dissident Voice and his Chap Book A Clock of Human Bones was published early this year by the Yellow Chair Review. He remains a Navy Sailor and is the father of 4 children and still manages to find time to write.

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