prose poem for June Senior Citizens forum contest
|World War Two Ghosts
I am walking on a crowded rural trail in rural France. With a start, I realize I am walking through World War 11 graveyards. The graves have released the dead and the dead are walking trying to communicate, but they are merely ghostly images of the dead soldiers. Millions of them lost wandering about and when they see me, they beseech me to help them find their lost loves and I tell them that I cannot help them that they are dead, and then they cry and the anguished sounds of the dead and dying soldiers fill the air and the room is filled with the sounds and terrors of the long-ago battle. The scene shifts a bit, and I am marching into battle with them before they had died and realized that the end is coming, but there is nothing, I can do but watch the coming of death and watch with horror the death of my new best friends. Then the scene clears, the ghosts to smile and says, “See that’s what happened to us. Please tell the world to not do this again. Please end the war everywhere. Please Please Please… “and I promise and wake up feeling that I had committed, but to whom and what I knew not.