Email Poem | Today's Poetry

 Upon Their Leaving

The men are quiet upon their leaving
Whirlwinds of laurel
Escort them into distance
Past the foot of the mountain
That sways against
A purple horizon
All is still
But for a battle cry--
A formless drifter
Countries discovered
Kingdoms conquered, claimed
Become principalities and powers
Pasts fall from memory
Into consciousness:
The present chaos
Of humanity's conflict

Wounded and slain
Look on from high plains

Dark of a thousand nights
Encircles their unseeing eyes
Their silent mouths
And clinched fists

"Hail the victorious dead!"

from Mytstic
May 23, 2011

Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem


 Email Address


Vote for this poem

  Sign Guestbook
  Read Guestbook

 Privacy Statement | Terms of Use | © 2000-2014 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors