The moon hung at half mast
And frowned upon the frozen ground
The passage to the perilous past
Where silence sealed the sound…
And the brass came tumbling down
Across the race and rigid face lay
Scar on top of scar…
A stoic stare neither here nor there
And a soiled Silver Star....
Topic(s) of this poem: war
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.