The soldier stands in a bleak midwinter field,
his comrades stood also,
looking like copies of him
With many more copies back home
His eyes -
eyes that saw bodies turned rag-dolls,
eyes that saw skin torn
from fingerless hands that once held him,
eyes that saw heads with lost eyes
that stared at darkness -
they teared
and joined tears of before
in the melted snow.
He stares at the snow.
The snow beguiles him with its comfort potential,
like his girl’s hand he’ll never again hold.
But under the white and smooth,
is a fate unknown,
written in stone.
--28/8/2022
Theme : War