Sentinels

Devotions by Chris Hendrix

58,220

Wind through graves.
A crop scythed too soon.
They bent your arms
to their twisted task.
It was hard work,
loud and bloody.
Calm now covers all.
Silence soothes the dead.
Memories falter and fade.
The fickle winds of war
blew you to this day.
Arms and the men,
long blown away.