Not By Bread

Folder: 
Falklands 82

Not By Bread

 

Energy in the form of.....

Little grey swirls,

Brushed aside the grass.

Coppery messages,

from......

Death.

They passed me by.

Drawing fragments,of my soul.

Sucked by the bullets wake.

My fear, for a moment gone.

Until, we rose, to fight.

And I stood ....,

 

Alone.

Giajl © Jim Love 

 
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