Those were the days
As the sun peaks its face out from behind Ol’ Saint Rocky
The pan is banged
OVER
And OVER
Muscle memory starts taking control
Not a thought about what he’s doing crosses his mind
Performing push-ups for the unforgiving fire in sky
His eardrums cease to have a break
He eats like food is seldom given to him
Not breathing in between bites
Rubbing butter on anything that is rub worthy
Tilting his head back for some juice
His platoon brothers hit his cup across the mess hall
Causing a strenuous twenty-mile hike to fall upon them as punishment
As the sun falls
The activity comes to a pause
Driving his truck down the old dirt road
Stopping at his hackneyed post
Spit in his mouth
As he rests on a wooden post
Watching a bull rodeo
With a cowboy hat covering his face and aviators on his eyes
Contemplating his decision to be a SEAL
Is it worth giving up all of this
Everything I thought I would be
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I had to do a rewrite of my last poem "Boot Camp Brothers", there was a total of three changes that I needed to make, !. Make one addition to the poems story 2. Change one story element 3. Change a crucial element of the story and the characters background.
