Air flows,
a chill breeze
around us, life
itself moving
on and away
from this desolate
field. White, stone,
knee-high crosses
stretch on over
the hill, a sollom
formation, their final
one. Forever at attention,
waiting, yearning,
for that command...
...rest
Author notes
...Bleed
Started to write about a graveyard, my muse took me to a soldiers graveyard.
- Army Supporters group list • next in list
A contest entry
- Your Inner Cemetery. by EverxEnding.
400 points, ended June 28, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - POETRY PODCAST - Showcasing your work. by Thom Boulton.
700 points, ended April 1, 63 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Funny where our muse can take us. This is a wonderful piece, beautifully penned. All the best in the contest
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Beautiful Words
Your words touch my heart. What a lovely poem to honor our fallen soldiers of wares past and present. Thank you for sharing. I love the title, it too is beautiful.
Bless You,
Sandy
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Wow.
This is a very sad poem.
It's really good, but very sad. :-<
Write happier stuff!!
:->
This is really.... nice....?? though.
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This was very sad. In my mind I was picturing American flags all around with single crosses, all made of the same stone, stuck in the ground without names, ages, family, etc... All in perfect rows. Beautiful as ever, though.
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