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Lark

by Marcus Lane

A pin point
Of liquid silver

Trickles from
Open sky

Low under leaden feet
The cheated generation
Lies

Present and correct
Rank and file
Row upon row

Dark sockets gape
Where eyes once flared and flinched
Bled
Oozed

Locked grateful lids
To extinguish
Hell

For good

Beneath the sun's glower
I raise mine to
Squint

At a lark

Ascending

03/03/2010

Author's Note: From notes written in Tyne Cot War Cemetary, Ypres, Belgium.

Posted on 03/03/2010
Copyright © 2021 Marcus Lane

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Leonard M Hawkes on 04/03/10 at 10:44 PM

Yes, very nice (and I love this Ralf Vaughan Williams piece)en ik hou ook veel van Belgie.

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