A Widow of War

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about the women who are left at home during a time of war, having to wonder if they will ever see their fighting husbands again.

Submitted: July 19, 2012

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Submitted: July 19, 2012



Tresses of leaves blow
In a field of red and geen.
Listen to the cannon blow
This is a sight I wish I had
not seen.

Though the mud is thick
And the blood seaps through
My shirt.
I struggle on like a tsunami of 
Iron and brick,
And I will never admit I'm hurt.

The air is fumigated with death
Its stench is an appetite to defeat.
My heart waves the white flag, giving
In with every breath
Now the darkness is falling in, 
From my head down to my feet.

O these days of sorrow
The flowers of today.
And "I'll see you tomorrow"
Is something I can never say.

But think of me, when the 
Birds are still
And the howling wind draws near.
For I shall be there at the top 
Of the hill
And in the wind, it is my voice 
That you hear. 

© Copyright 2018 thomasbrady. All rights reserved.

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