Innards and the muck of such
Cover the battle field while
The shanks and hands of gutted
Combatants are further from the
Engagement; whilst in the home
Town lanes the torsos of the fallen
Lay having found some final
Strength to cast their heads
Back to the huts they came from.
The minds and moods, which sent
Them out to vent their steam
Upon each other, order crowds
Out of porch doorways to receive
The news. Huddled and held they
Blend together to view the worst
Whilst being told that triumph
Is about to return from the front
Being fought in their very name,
But after the words have arrived,
And been sieved through the
Lives of those risen to meet them,
They flurry and flake their truth
Onto the ruins of the bunkered,
Still encumbered in their bolt holes,
Who are unwilling to clear roof
Tops that are now settled deeper
With the death soot of sweepers.
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