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Doug Anderson: Mother Death
Week doesn’t go by I don’t think of them,
the men I couldn’t help,
watched their lips turn blue then
rattle out their soul it’s not easy
to concentrate with the rounds coming close
splintering the trees all around,
like I sent my body out there to do that
while the rest of me hid
somewhere metaphysical and watched.
Those of us who didn’t die out there
are old now and see a more gentle death
just outside the periphery
of our second sight she’s a mother
taking us back into her she’s a lover
reaching for us to come into her.
—
Copyright 2015 Doug Anderson
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This entry was posted on February 11, 2016 by Vox Populi in Health and Nutrition, Most Popular, Poetry, War and Peace and tagged Doug Anderson, Mother Death.Shortlink
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Very fine. Brilliant and beautifully simple. Thank you.
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One of my favorite poems about war.
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I don’t have words to describe how much I loved this poem. I never knew death could be symbolised this way. Brilliant!
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