courier half dreamed, behind the battle lines
I saw you stumble and fall
and still your drum’s tattoo
rang out from all of Time
a glory you sought, as if you were going to Sea
peach trees above wept petals, for it was late Spring
knowing how young you truly were;
in my mind the dust never lifts from the field
the winds have stopped breathing
in my mind the heart never stops breaking
how could you know which was real
which side was good
you were so young
camaflouged not in the shaking woods
you remained young
fatally wounded
this is my distant song for you.
in every war.
mary angela douglas 9 november 2023
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