News from the Front
His fury at death stirred a gentle breeze:
She thought it was only the wind in the trees.
He remembered a blast and the blinding sand,
Maybe moments ago in a far off land.
He tried to get through by stirring the trees:
She thought it was only the Carolina breeze.
Before he left they talked about codes,
Now despair rolled toward her over Carolina roads.
The spirit makes nothing of deserts and seas,
But the only sound was the wind in the trees.
Watching her grieve would be too much to bear.
He dissolved with a sigh on the soft spring air.
His love and regret stirred a gentle breeze,
Sifting through branches like the wind in the trees.
She knew when she saw the military car
What a terrible price he'd paid in the war.
With a soundless cry she fell to her knees
Under branches that stirred in a Carolina breeze.
Thank you! Your poem brought tears to my eyes. It is beautiful but oh so very sad.
Welcome to Amy's Place. I hope you come back often with or without poems.
Welcome to Amy's place!