Glenora is on fire—wine country. Maple trees blaze: amber, lime and peach.
Explosions rape the daylight hours, while uniformed troops gather on hill tops /////////formulating strategy, talking of near misses.
This theatre of war consumes all of twenty trenched acres
littered with fences, nets, and barbed wire. /////////Thirty days of battle and the air strikes continue—the enemy relentless.
Lifeless figures perch unnaturally in the field, reminding attackers of impending
doom. Targets, plump and ripe, feel no pain. /////////A glorious sunrise forty days in/// marks the final acetylene explosion.
Zanatta Vignette’s War
by Rhonda Jury
Glenora is on fire—wine country. Maple trees blaze: amber, lime and peach.
Explosions rape the daylight hours, while uniformed troops gather on hill tops
/////////formulating strategy, talking of near misses.
This theatre of war consumes all of twenty trenched acres
littered with fences, nets, and barbed wire.
/////////Thirty days of battle and the air strikes continue—the enemy relentless.
Lifeless figures perch unnaturally in the field, reminding attackers of impending
doom. Targets, plump and ripe, feel no pain.
/////////A glorious sunrise forty days in/// marks the final acetylene explosion.
/////////And the murder of crows moves on.