Highways and Byways: War Correspondent

By Maik Strosahl

I’ve used David Hartley’s photography before in this column, when he was in Colorado (See “Char #5” from November 25, 2020). Since then he has relocated his talent to the northwest.
    He recently posted a dramatic photo of Haystack Rock at Cannon Beach, Oregon, that got my attention. I love how his photography has an element of that news reporter just presenting the facts, going into the battle to capture the moment for those back home, watching Cronkite and Chancellor from the safety of their living rooms.

     I hope I have captured a little bit of that brave soul, standing still even among exploding mortars and whistling bullets, armed with only a loaded camera.
    Thank you, David, for continuing to go out with the tools of your trade and that eye for the news, returning safely to share another report from this wonderful world.

War Correspondent

Churning sky and
swirling sea,
the splashing dive of a tern
rising back through the froth
struggling
against the breathless flight
of gills out of water,
eyes clouding in the wind,
blood dripping from the joining
of claws and scaled flesh.

The Haystack in a spray of rain—
clouds and ocean spray in the air,
anemones tumbled across the beach,
puffins running from the surf.

And I, watch the lines,
blurred in constant battle,
watching the eternal war of Gaia
at peace on the sidelines
with my camera.

Copyright © 2022 by Maik Strosahl Michael E. Strosahl has focused on poetry for over twenty years, during which time he served a term as President of the Poetry Society of Indiana. He relocated to Jefferson City, Missouri, in 2018 and currently co-hosts a writers group there.