Tattooed Tears

We cry for our youth, lost

beyond these pleasant shores

sent out to fight the shadows

in commitment to others’ laws.

As another flag draped coffin

sails down tear flooded streets,

one more community bows their heads

to the drum’s slow beat.

We’ve brought back so many brave hearts

in parts from foreign places

and shed so many tears we feel

they’re tattooed on our faces.

Brought back so many brave hearts

so tender in their years

lost the ones we care for

and shed too many tears.

Home to Roost – Buckenham Marshes

Magnetic trees draw rook and jackdaw

from the lowering sky like iron filings,

drawn from the last rays of the setting sun

in raucous numbers

to the hub of their feeding grounds

on Norfolk’s flat lands.

Chattering,  jack  jack  jack

to and fro, cawing into the dark

as dead leaves rising up

returning life to winter trees,

shouting back their defiance

at their untimely demise.