Tuesday, January 16, 2024

Breaking Camp

ragged weary soldiers wake
frost on the grass
fog in the forest
puffs of effort
wordless mouths
boots in the wet
making mud
an old tin kettle sits
in the last embers

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thoughts on Bots, Poetry, and Coming Back Again

I checked my blog's numbers after my last post. My readership seemed to be exploding, but considering the volume was all from Singapore,...