The river will soon speak
In fire and blood.
Until it does
It sleeps.
On the far bank
Men shelter.
Rifles, like branches
Jut in frigid air.
Bayonets, like thorns
Thirst for blood.
We wait for dark
To cross.
When night falls
Men will die.
Snow mantles the earth
Evergreens drape in its freeze.
Beyond the far shore
A shattered steeple pierces the gloom.
War has two seasons:
Dying and waiting to die.
We will lay down covering fire
Soon.
They will answer
Bullet for bullet.
We will kill them.
They will kill us.
A body floats face down between the banks
Its uniform uncertain.
But I know who he is.
He is all of us.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Aachen
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Wednesday, November 19, 2014
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1 comments:
Bayonets, like thorns, thirst for blood... This one is so sad, so scary, so true. As it has been for all of human history. I just read a beautiful picture book called "Shooting at the Stars" about the British and Germans in the trenches during WW1. How at Christmas time they had an informal truce and sang together and shared a peaceful evening between trying to kill each other; the reason for which was unclear to all. Humans can be so beautiful, so brilliant and compassionate - they can also force young people into the most brutal situations. War. I appreciate how you are able to capture ALL of what is human.
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