Blood Masks the Lea
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In Flanders Fields, by Dirk Lemmens, 1959
Blood masks the lea, the blasted loam
upon whose breasts soldiers came home.
The earth, herself, held each to chest
the mist of sky killed with each breath
as ruined green became their tomb.
Men strafed by shells and gassed by fume:
cast akimbo, blown to their doom
entrenched, barb fenced; death coalesced;
blood masks the lea.
Eight million French, their valor shown;
most shy twenty lay beneath stone:
Russians, Brits, Italians, Yanks, rest
thirty seven million, our best
slaughtered and listed in old tomes;
blood masks the lea.
An Ekphrastic done as a French Rondeau
after:Flanders Fields by John McCrae
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2016
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