Paths Of Glory

Hunched in sweat we reap to hear
Spring's chaste moon screaming, wet
corpses remulch earth's tortured crust;
Red laser combines, voodoo blade harvest,
mad human waves of grain threshed here,
worming
brave gray bundles
scattered headless
alone.

by Jeff Logan

Other poems of JEFF LOGAN (2)

Comments (1)

I like your style. Simple language yet you use great imagery to get the message across.