War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

I walk the field

for our lost, for our injured of mind and body

I walk the field in dark no light to guide,
just night vision of ice and snow-shawled hill,
graze of cedar, blue heron hunkered, still
against whited sky; my dogs unleashed
into winter’s dust, huge circles of wild
bite, growl, yip, half-wolf breaking orbit,
they run fast, straight into dark forever.
Beneath my feet, snow-squeak keening lost
beloveds; they sleep deep in black cold cradle
far from desert sand and heat, Afghanistan,
far far from Christmas arms of laugh, love,
embrace and feast—o war, o waste, o grief.
I walk the field in dark no light to guide,
searching searching for that brilliant star.

About This Page

The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled I walk the field. It was posted here on December 26, 2008.


Complete diary archive