The wind blew dust today until you couldn't see. Now the wind is carrying winter to us. The soldiers put on an extra layer of clothing as they stare out at the barren trees along the river bed. The enemy, the bad guys, the evil doers stare at the wire. They have been staring for thousands of years.
The soldier stares at a goat herd. This is a country buried in the 13th century. He wonders if there is a word for "Peace" in Dari or Pashtun. Christmas is two days away. Santa doesn't fly over the Hindu Kush. He flies over Carmel,Ca. or Greenwhich, Ct or Beverly Hils,Ca. but he isn't landing in Afghanistan.
The soldier lifts up his collar looking up at the stars that sprinkle the sky. It is a cold lonely planet and Afghanistan is a place that doesn't tolerate remorse.
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