Dream, First Full Night of the Year

I am one of four men entrusted with delivering refugees
from a disputed territory. The road lays over bare hills and open

fields. Everyone carries only what they need. I carry
their memories, so I can only take half a step at a time.

When the first bomb explodes by the roadside, the others
are already far ahead of me. The memories are important

but sometimes you have to outrun memories to escape.
I am cresting a hill, beyond it are more hills and small fires

where the bombs have landed. Gunfire bounces off the road
nearby and I break from the path, dropping nothing,

staying low. Somewhere there have to be trees, undergrowth,
a forest, where I can escape the ground.