deepundergroundpoetry.com

Rags in the River

         
Raw across the fields, we ran              
from gunfire to birdsong              
the still of orchard          
greening moss              
timing nature's slower breath          
by steady march of afternoon              
              
The bloodiest stains          
may never come clean              
memories that cant be washed              
'till death permits us to forget              
a bitter mourning wasting lives              
however just times seemed              
              
Kids with orders      
hugging guns          
though when the smoke cleared              
none of us were men              
and whether ours or theirs              
no-one deemed to care              
         
For just a moment then    
we were all one army with sole intent            
dragging bodies breathless          
past so much fallen fruit            
from a world struck dumb  
for a prayer
Written by Abracadabra
Published | Edited 2nd Nov 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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