Strewn about a pock-marked land
Snaking, divots, craters kept
As if immense doodle bugs been
Their lairs of dark dire doom
Filled and smoothed with time
Trenchlines they once were
Now only rusty fragments lie
Such important evidentary lines
Created by casted earth and bunkers
The once mud-laden soil abounding
Where vermin and stench stayed
Friend and foe fragmented, fallen
Now sleep beneath a thick pall
A green carpet that mutes all
Trees now shadow emptiness
Once clear cut grazing fire
Their scions stomped in by men
The grim reader's full harvest
Brutal war ensures a bounty
The blood and tear soaked earth
Cold, wet earth, known unkind
No more armed rapport
Nor the ground aerated by shell
Turned by bursting plowshare
Deep furrows no more
Nor cries, moans, or sweat
Now everything is but silence
All hostile priorities forgotten
Here lost in no man's land