Bitter Harvest

First harvest is most bitter, like copper in the throat,

Graves are made most carefully, to render it to field,

Regret lingers on the wind, when the bodies bloat.

***

Cold and quiet battlefield, I shiver in my coat,

Battle’s shifted, Death has lingered, fates completely sealed,

First harvest is most bitter, like copper in the throat.

***

Lips were once quite merry, on them mothers would dote,

Now paled by frost-furred blanket, in morning’s light revealed,

Regret lingers on the wind, when the bodies bloat.

***

Will you help me, brother? Take them to Charon’s boat?

I need to remedy the ground if I’m to reap a yield,

First harvest is most bitter, like copper in the throat.

***

I keep repeating prayers, I know them all by rote,

I think I can perform this task, my heart has been quite steeled,

Regret lingers on the wind, when the bodies bloat.

***

I mourn these youngling boys, my conscience has been smote,

Crumbling leaves fill up a common grave, my senses reel,

First harvest is most bitter, like copper in the throat,

Regret lingers on the wind, when the bodies bloat.