Wars have never hurt anybody except the people who die.

– Salvador Dali


Wire

How long your half-held body stood
    Upon the fence no one can say;
Only your blank eyes, if they could,
    Would note the rise and fall of day.

The line behind moves forth and back,
    The line ahead shifts with the hours;
And yet the wire is still and slack,
    Resisting all their mortal powers.

This wretched soil is barren now,
    Drowned with a terrible red flood.
Only the dead will dare to plow,
    With bones, the ground grown soft as mud.

And now, at least, your eyes shall miss
    The bloody rise of battle-mourns
As, sheltered from the stench and hiss,
    You sleep within your shroud of thorns.


E-Mail Feedback

Like this piece? Hate it? Got a question or comment? Let it all out via the e-mail feedback form below.

Name

E-Mail

Website

Rate it:

Comments

To prove you’re not a spambot, please solve this simple problem: 2 + 2 =

   





A snapshot of me (Romy)

Hi. I’m Romy. without-feathers.com is my personal site, where I blog and review things and make lists and write bad poetry and do whatever other silly things come to mind. If this sounds like fun to you, it’s probably time to take your meds. But first, stick around and surf my site a little.

I hope you have as much fun exploring this site as I have making it. :)


Recent

12.04.07: Victory is Mine!
NaNoWriMo? Check. Christmas shopping? Check. Insensitive comments? Check, check, check, check, check...

Random

Tom Swifties
A fun word game.

And . . .