You lay in the wooden cot, a broken sparrow, Crushed. Bony. Frail. Hair once plumed gold, greyed to clumped feathers like ragged trampled wings, strawed out on the dank pillow.
Response to 1st World War poetry after recent Armistice healing mission to Flanders Battlefields with Path For Hope (Healing Our People & Earth)Written in poetic style of Old Testament Book of Job.