The Peat Warriors Poem by Leslie Philibert
The Peat Warriors
Dressed in turf,
grinning with bronze teeth,
eaters of skull,
burners of abbeys
Cold with the blood
of heavy horses,
black-boned and wolf-eyed, as
senseless as a winter tide
cutting the throated air
of stolen girls, a Northern wind
of ill intention,
the rained crowd of dark shapes
that bangs the runed drums.
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4/25/2024 1:15:15 AM # 1.0.0.1119
