Ballad of war
Last night we all might have had something
concerning the marksmanshiping of war.
The waves then might differ
pulsating, cresting, rising and falling both in tides
and others?.
Last night the something was thither:
If I said poetry, might not be alone;
if said naïve things naivety, might holden back the rule.
Now, how many things were like bubbling through
the woods?,
how many things were like swerving flower or swirling
to dell last night?.
I think war was a seasonal tree and was somehow fully
alive or it sometimes shedding it's leaves or recently
has become magical?.
War was sometimes completely dry ,
is not that sometimes a kind of encounter?
how like peace is an love fresh and tender tree?.
Copyright © Bamanga Bashir | Year Posted 2025
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