War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele


I never see/hear them,
the eyed and eared men,
clean, nerveless,
their shelter stealth,
their shelter stalk;

they sleep in tents
left of Saint Mark’s,
left of reccie, the QM’s;
for heavenly experts,
this earth’s hard rent;

clean, nerveless, their shelter stealth,
sited, scoped, their shelter stalk,
blue-veined as duty, their sniper sky,
open alone for them, patient their shot—
so clear, so clean, so boundless.

About This Page

The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled snipers. It was posted here on May 10, 2009.


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