and the mist hovered.
Soon, droplets formed.
"The rain is falling, Albert.
Soon the Wadis will fill.
Mosquitoes will swarm."
"Their welts will cover
our white skin, burnt
by the scorching sun."
"Soaked to the bone,
we could wash away.
Withering time will say."
"What's left of our bones
picked at by scavengers
then bleached by the sun,
will come to rest below
the bosom of the dunes."
"No need to fear, Albert."
Albert of the Afrika Korps
and Albert the Desert Rat
died entwined and that was that.
mists of grief and never-mores
hover above our bowed heads."
"They have yet to settle
upon our bent shoulders
but surely they are curious."
"I think they are looking
for an easy place to rest."
"It seems so", Albert said.
Albert the German soldier,
Albert of the Afrika Korps,
led by Rommel, the Desert Fox.
Albert the British soldier,
Albert, a proud Desert Rat,
led by Montgomery, Monty.
This is the vast, arid Sahara
from the shores of Libya
east to the Nile River valley.
This is the African campaign,
violent spasms of war mixed
with sandstorms and flies.
Time to put on a fresh, new face.
A touch of lipstick, cherry red.
Don't let it all go to your head.
This bright new day, you're in the black.
The shit's been kicked. You're really back.
Your star is rising, brand new show.
Your ship's come in. It's time to go.
Sometimes, somewhere, someone is there.
... to hear the murmur of a prayer.