... and not quietly, neither (pace Mr. Dylan).
---
the lasting hour--this one
we must crouch
as the guns thunder
your chest would shake
--in a silent room
at the tumult
--close your eyes
to the clicking
the hum of voices, be still as
the hills gilded by the light
of the mortars--close your eyes
--to shut the night in
descend, into the dark
fields within you, where the bullets
snap under the stars
--let them talk peace... let 'em talk it
and stand there in the white light
hands raised--and hopeful
close your eyes
and deny them
and give yourself unto the trenches
--you will die at war
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