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On the side of a hill in the deep forest green, tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground,
blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves washes the grave with silvery tears,
a soldier cleans and polishes a gun.
War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions, generals order their soldiers to kill
and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Story Bones

(this is one of those "what you wake up with" pieces)

It's the fear he lives with, the horror he expects to find.

2 comments:

Camille Alexa said...

HAPPY MERRY HAPPY MERRY CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS HAPPY MERRY HOLIDAYS CHRISTMAS!!!

Steve Buchheit said...

Hey Camille, Happy Merry to my favorite Littlebird!