Poems of Fictive Moments: The Soldiers


A bit of an experiment I have been thinking and working on.
Fictive moments.  Cinematic vignettes.  Images.  Minimal ornamentation.
A story that is mostly told by not being told.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



In a cold field of gray
and stubbled grass,
six soldiers stand
in a circle smoking.

A chill fog swallows 
their words.  Their
long coats flap
in a desultory wind.

Before them,
at their feet,
at the center of their circle,
a blossom grows
from a small and 
cooling form,

one bright color marking
the early arrival of another,

as dull
as the fog, 
as the field,
as the uniforms.

They stand, 
as stiff and still 
as the stalks about them
and as dry.

At the edge 
of the field,
a crow coughs 
and climbs
into the sky.






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9 thoughts on “Poems of Fictive Moments: The Soldiers

  1. I especially love the end and the stillness of the poem as a whole. You get a sense of something just happening and just about to happen.

    • Thank you so much David. Your comment has helped me get a better idea of where I am going with this series–the still point between two moments. I only now realized how much that is just what I was going for. Thank you for that.
      Now the pressure is on, as I have absolutely no idea about the next piece in the series yet. Nothing. Except for this feeling of pensiveness and stillness in the midst of moving moments.
      Funny–I am just now posting another haiku sonnet. Rather ugly really, in tone, subject and in its use of the form, I’m afraid. But I had to try it, even if it is a bit shoe-horned…

  2. Pingback: Poems of Fictive Moments: Rocking | A Prayer Like Gravity

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