Thirsty Roots

Beautiful photographic art by Margaret Bednar of i&I

Hard to believe

that, on this golden field,

under lowering clouds,

this field 
once
ran red,

young soldiers 
lying amidst the bluebells,
screaming out 

in agony,

the ground rumbling

and heaving

under their feet,

from barrages

of these ancient cannons.

Desperate,

in extremis, 

young souls

departed from this earth

too soon. 

After the gunfire

faded away,

and the rest of

the raggedy boys

were finally 

heading home,

the earth began to heal.

Slowly,

it forgot

those blood-soaked days.

By the following summer,

bees buzzing at the blossoms,

all that was left

was this sad sentinel,

to remember the years

when their young screams 

rang out

across the land. 

Perhaps the wheat 

is a richer golden color

because so much

young blood

enriched its thirsty roots.

The Sunday Challenge at Real Toads is to choose one of Margaret Bednar's beautiful photos, and write a poem. I found the colors in this photo striking, and the cannon took me back to thoughts of the Civil War, and the suffering of those who fought in hand to hand combat in those early days.