In the first deep darkness,
during lit candles and prayer,
I walked alone past the mess hall with my phone.
Cold, the phone cold to the touch.
The news from home was not good.
Her voice in the dark was a small dry bell.
The searchlight flashed along the fence.
Back in the tent,
a deep bulb-lit quiet
of men reading.
huddled near the heater.
too tuned to it.