At eleven in the morning, the guns ceased
Oppressors and liberators unite momentarily
Marking the ending of the Great War
Burnt-out, rusting carcasses of battle machines
Left to rot in the forests and on the plains
Processions of the slack-jawed, empty-eyed dead
Fill the scarred roads of Belgium in carts and trucks
Heading for a final resting place
Peace, at last
Peace, at last
The unadorned, muddied field
Swallows them up dispassionately
One shovelful at a time
While the silent seeds watch patiently
Waiting to pay their respects
With a scarlet carpet of tribute
That cannot be matched by man
About the Creator
Tina D'Angelo
I am a 70-year-old grandmother, who began my writing career in 2022. Since then I have published 6 books, all available on Barnes and Noble or Amazon.
BARE HUNTER, SAVE ONE BULLET, G-IS FOR STRING, AND G-IS FOR STRING: OH, CANADA
Keep reading
More stories from Tina D'Angelo and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Devil's Triangle
The sails ruffled in the breeze as we cruised along. The Sea Breeze was a mid-size catamaran that sailed out of Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda. We had booked this trip weeks in advance and were now looking at our Captain, Spike and two boat hands. Paddy and Wilson seemed like nice guys, joking around with the passengers and telling us some stories about Bermuda that only locals would know. Their island accents sounded almost British but they were pleasant to listen to.
By Barbara Gode Wilesa day ago in Fiction
Comments (5)
Love how real and raw your poem is .
This was so poignant yet so beautifully written, Tina. Loved your poem!
Very nice.
This is a very good poem to pay respects to veterans from the Great War to end all Wars and future ones. Poppy fields forever great work.
Ugh! Beautiful written, Tina. Hard lessons learned never seem to stay learned though. Love this, even if it's full of the bitterness that comes from war. Eloquent, and yeah. Sad but beautiful.