157) The Trigger

The Trigger The enemy or the allies held there fingers to the trigger as the bombs goes tick, tick, tick Into a plume of a yellow fire ball along with the thick plume of black smoke As a sholider passes by the whispers of death upon the dead of silence of a night patrol to hell and danger. Was it a bomb, a bullet or a land mine Meant for him or was it caused by a lonely single sniper in the Bushes or in a deserted old farm house In no mans land in a deserted town in a war zone on the other two sides to the tail of this war. How do you know whose finger was on The trigger Pete Goodwin 2008