a blown out fort
guards against
the imaginary natives
instead of a cannon
she held up
a worn out mop
a man stands apart
waiting
for the battle to end
through a hole
she looks at the
landscape before her
blood crackles
from the severed
remains battle
the wall offered
no protection
as the enemy swarmed
he wants to fight
but freezes
with the sound of drums
the wall crumbles
into the rumbles
of time
robes on
a stone post—
her son is dead
he was dressed
too nicely
for the way he died
she huddles
with a stone
waiting for it all to end
the farmers ponder
what the battle
means
their white flag
of surrender
is soiled red with blood
heaven’s shadows
fall on dying
soldiers
there is music
on the battlefield
but where is the band?
in time the corpses
on this field
will be no more than sand
Year:
2013
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