The Painting of a War


Every frame through narrowed sight

The edges blur to indistinct,

So honed the thought, so free of light

A moment’s life, then life extinct.


A breath released, the action spent

The snapshot fused upon a mind,

A palette’s hue cannot relent

The vivid bleed its colours find


Then shuffling through the silent rooms

Wall on wall the canvas stained,

Memories brushed like smoking plumes

That rose to leave yet still remained.


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