Frontline from Back Home
Maisie Evason-Genn
His eyes widened as the words shot through
Every sound surging deeper into the scene
Where the mud and letters took over
Where every man stood a soldier
His hands locked tight to his brother
As the unread letters fell
With panicked cries and chilling thuds
But his eyes only saw the blood
His pain he shared with that letter
A fragment of his father’s love
The stanzas he read and the songs he played
But the last scream and bullet stayed
His loss so great that every step
Echoed the hole inside his chest
So young and sweet yesterday
But he became a man that day