This is a poem I reworked from one I wrote and posted on 3rd July and submitted to a competition. It didn’t get anywhere but I thought I’d post it here.
They struggled across no-man’s land,
On their way back to a mud-filled trench.
Buried deep beneath their feet
(Unlike their fallen comrades left behind in slime and stench)
The arteries of communication stopped pulsing.
Amidst the rumbling and the shaking,
Field telephones went silent
When their hollow mouths pleaded:
And is there news?
© Kim M. Russell, 2016