Earth’s bed cover stripped away near Flanders. The industry of grandchildren broke the father memory, a burial mound for absenteeism. Poetry wrote them up. Fusiliers corroded with bracelet dog tags beyond time; nobodies’ killed them. A gas mask face, phosgene signatures imprinted in wine-mud. Timed detonators that didn’t go off.
(You) watch this 85 years from now.
A week of pre-spring rain & the seasons cake on boots. Wood preserved when it shouldn’t have breathes a new centuries’ arsenic air. The factory completed on time.
A regimental stamp on the heart.
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