Men wave goodbyes they don't know.
Young warriors sit crammed in boats,
40 soldiers bearly afloat.
Gun shots pepper the night,
Bodies lie in the morning light.
Fallen friends of which they pass,
Belongings scattered all through the grass.
The A.N.Z.A.Cs stand in scungy trenches,
The wounded sit bandaged on benches.
Silence falls across the land,
Bibles sit close at hand.
The last post sounds through the air,
As the left over soldiers say their prayers.
Flanders field where poppies blow,
Crosses stand row by row.
Lest we forget
By Georgia Adams
Fantastic writing Georgia. I love how you powerfully capture a moment in time even though you have never experienced it. Well done.
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