A battle

Aribam Surjeet Sharma
There was a battle going on
Between my son and mosquitoes
Many mosquitoes he had killed
By striking them with his palm
Against the white wall of my room.
But I was aghast that he left

My newly painted wall sullied
With smudges of blood and dirt
And broken bits of legs and wings
Stop now, said I, "I,ll light a mosquito coil".
Then a cheery response from my son,
 "Papa I might have killed ten or fifteen"

But that remark rang a bell with me--
A remembrance cloudy at first,
Then becoming clear by degrees.
My captain, shouting at me, asked,
"How are things going on at your end?"
I, a soldier, firing a machine gun

Trying to stem the tide of enemy soldiers
Trying to overrun our positions,
Replied," sir I might have killed
Ten or fifteen of enemy soldiers"