Tags
Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, Head-shot, poem, poetry, shot in the head, War, war movies
There is no pause when one is dead.
When well-aimed bullets pierce one’s head
One doesn’t for a moment stand
With startled look or gesture grand.
Unlike the actors at the flicks,
One plummets like a ton of bricks.
{First appeared in TRINACRIA issue #13, 2015}
dnobrienpoetry 