Forgotten Wars

by Donald Pastures

Overgrown trenches Re-laced with wire

Burnt out metallic shells Their cores glow anew

Spent casings Clicking into dusty mags Slotted into rusty chambers

Skeletal hands Grasping tarnished instruments Sounding shrieks and flats Of melodies long forgotten

Withered commanders Pitching moth-eaten tents Tracing wrinkled and torn maps Plotting ancient rebukes

Against the next generation of souls Resting in their new homes That long since changed their goals Atop withered battlements