Rhea Noel MacDonald

THE HOLY ONES

Sky so black
stars gleaming bright
at home in the States,
this would be a “night”.

But here, damn here,
it’s only hell for me.
I can’t see anything
of my enemy

How close are they?
Where can they be?
I smell them
and their fear.

They’re sneaking up,
crack goes the branch
can they hear me breathe
here in this trench?

A sudden pause
my breath now still,
another branch,
I unleash my Hell.

The roaring guns
the screams, the cries
of the souls
lost on this night

I feel the warmth
blood all around
of Charlie, me,
my men on the ground

Mixed with dirt
the stench does rise
into the night,
God, hear my cries.

As morning comes,
so do the men.
Carry me out:
send me home again.

What happened now,
to the guys,
who fought so bravely
by my side?

Mothers’ tears, a Fathers’ pain,
I must see them,
when I’m home again.

They need to know
about their sons,
who fought so honorably,
The Holy Ones.