How must your bodies feel about your minds?
Marching methodically into death’s maw
Liquor, laughter, love of myriad kinds
Live to the south; you can sense their sweet draw
But north you plod, determined, resolute
How incredulous your young hearts must be
Life’s throbbing need to persist, absolute
You coldly ignore, though your feet are free
I do not have your strength, nor your courage
A sharp, thirsty, Teutonic scythe awaits
That would a gallant hero discourage;
Cutting down tall, thin poppies: that, it sates
What can I offer you, who fell for me?
Brief words, and an enduring memory
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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My New Book is Finally Here
My poetry collection Beautiful and Brutal Things is done. It's actually done and finally published over 270 pages. Over a year of my life went into this book. More than a year, really. Long days at my computer, sometimes seven days a week because I couldn't stop even when I probably should have. Then two months of editing that felt harder than the writing itself. But it's finished, and I'm still standing, and the book is real.
By Tim Carmichael2 days ago in BookClub
Comments (3)
This was packed with so much emotions! Loved your poem!
This was extremely moving! your use of languge to draw us in and feel something is impeccable as ever, well done, sir!
This is a beautifully heartfelt and genuine poem of thanks for those whose bravery stood and fell for so many. Wonderful bit of writing, DJ.