All We Fight For

Fragments of hand grenades,
artichokes and lemonade,
rolling hills and bone-dry lakes;
this is the land of our mistakes.

Spit-roasting meat in roughshod shelter,
in the month of June, all must swelter.
Atrophied muscle shrinks to fit;
a withered nation, counterfeit.

Parisian romance and bottled glee
where the sun sets over Normandy.
The Romans rode in snow and rain;
nails hammered in rhythmic, driving vein.

Cast adrift we stand and sit
on waves lapping; a dogged, foaming pit.
All we fight for is dust and shards
where we wander, staring, for a hundred yards.

Knuckled down, we know our sums.
Line us up beside your guns;
wall-mounted, polished and shining bright.
Partisan, we die tonight.



One thought on “All We Fight For

  1. Admiring the time and effort you put into your website and in depth information you provide. It’s awesome to come across a blog every once in a while that isn’t the same outdated rehashed information. Wonderful read! I’ve saved your site and I’m including your RSS feeds to my Google account.

    Liked by 1 person

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