Harvest's Bounty

And silent now the earth's green oracles
That will not speak again of innocence.
(David Sutton, Geomancies)

The gulls rise as one
Over the empty killing grounds,
Their harsh throats sounding
A broken-backed requiem
For the ugly, twisted forms
That sully the oh-so-elegant lines
Of the muddy trenches.

Soon the rains come again,
Cleansing the wounded earth,
And crimson
Becomes red
Becomes pink
Becomes clear;
Water to sear the heart.

At sunset,
When the rain has stopped,
The bodies of the fallen are gone.
In the morning
Their lives would be honoured,
But no-one is left here now
To remember them.

And a hundred miles away,
In their great halls,
A king's feast about them,
The victors proclaim their triumph to their people:
"The price of lettuce
Has been decreased by one penny -
Official."

Not a great deal to say about this one, really; I'll let you make up your own mind.