The deserted street mocks the abandoned mission,
hard by the ice-shadows of the factory skeleton,
frozen into a woeful December sky.
A drab, olive blur crowds the warped doorway
of the indifferent winter’s foxhole.
The frayed combat jacket shrouds —
the forgotten hero,
as he shivers his last breath, away.
A soft, new, morning snow covers him
a forgiving blanket of unblemished white.
A bright-eyed schoolboy, playing at war,
pauses before the hushed mound of snow.
He places his lunchbox carrot, gently,
onto the peaceful snowman.
He smiles at his creation,
into the hope of the new morning.
His mouth full of blazing guns