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Wildflowers
I knew
where he died, in the Russian snow,
In some
far off place, in a land of white,
In a
field of red, in a nothing earth,
The
final stand of a gallant man, who lost.
Searching there among the ruins, for a sign,
I
chanced upon a field of flowers, wild they were;
Nothing
around them, nothing at all,
A patch
of wild flowers amid the wheat.
I asked
this man, a Holy man, a passer by,
Why the
brightness amid the wheat, the flowing gold?
Why the
wild flowers, so endless bright, so fair?
Who was
it that put them there, and no place else?
And the
man answered; long years ago, in the war,
A man
here fell, of golden hair and eyes of blue;
For one
brief moment held this spot, this ground,
Then
was killed; lost everything in the Russian snow.
We
stripped his body, clothes, boots, all that was warm
For we
were cold as well as he, perhaps colder still;
He was
gone while yet we lived, in another winter storm,
Nakedness is nothing to the dead; clothes protect the warm.
Around
his neck, a pouch, dirt and seeds, nothing more,
We
stripped it with all the rest, finding nothing, threw it aside,
Threw
it among the red and white of the Russian snow,
Dead
things that lay all about, the golden hair and once blue eyes.
They,
as we, ended in a common grave; never to be heard once more,
Never
to see the sun again, to feel the winter at it's core.
The
fighting ended for us and them; peace declared forevermore,
Nothing
won and nothing gained; the snows continue as before.
But in
the field, those wild flowers grew, those foreign colors;
Seems
some Caesar bled and died; a something none of us ever knew,
Wildflowers from a distant land; a message perhaps, from God to you;
His
boots kept me warm; and the pouch with seeds, perhaps he lives on.
I do
not know of the man you seek, the war ended a long time ago,
Nothing
is left of us or them, only the wildflowers amid the wheat,
The
yellow and blue growing on the Russian plain, nothing else,
Voices,
here before, are silent, voices here before are stilled, forever.
Tristan
looking for his father, Christmas 2002 |