Sockets spill blood upon the mud, staring
where eyes once gazed clear
on poppies swaying red in the corn
the year before.
They kept a heavy silence
when they shipped the young men out,
Hearts and heads bursting
with near adult pride
to fight for mothers and sisters
against a sinister foe.
Opposite their eyeless gaze
flares fell silently
touching with red
sockets spilling blood upon the mud.
No dreams now: but poppies flourish
in Afghan fields, in a mulch
of scattered limbs
and eyeless skulls.
Author notes
This is free verse
A contest entry
- Picture Inspiration #9 by Laura Lamarca.
550 points, ended November 16, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Hi Mum. A good write. Nice metaphor. Deep expression of emotion. Vivid descriptives. Good word choice and alliteration. Well penned.
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