truth often takes a leave of absence
fortunes of war shift
hoping the shifts at the front are temporary
love sometimes goes AWOL and can’t be found again
-slipped behind enemy lines
-pirate radio, all that jazz
better than spending some hard time in the brig
I’m thinking all this
wander through woods that remind of the Ardennes
taking baby steps through a minefield
unfold map of mayhem from my army jacket pocket
sitting on fallen tree sprawled on the forest floor
like so many others have done before
now it starts to snow -- great -- normally I love snow
but not today
no direction known
blend in with the locals if possible
hide in barns, attics, cellars
don’t wanna be found no more
no more Tokyo Rose or Axis Sally or Mata Hari
don’t wanna hear your names or your voices
from now on, I’m strictly on a private line - off the hook
