Passed On

Lost legends tremor in the graphite lake,

Thunder deep rumble, resonance of quake;

Perpetual waves grumble in refrain

Dull detonation pulse across the plain.

Sedate and synchronous in wrinkled line

The motherlode is walking out on time.

Lone piebald crow on carrion crusade

Signals the flight from spaces we invade.

Colossal hulks of mammoth, crumpled stone

Moving incessantly towards some home

Engrained in carbon memory of lead

Passed on in concord with the living dead.

Plum stark dreadful tombstones, doomed in retreat,

Recede to past, the long march of defeat.

Something in the atmosphere tells that, even under the sun, this is the remnant of a huge army, morphing in this vision into The Retreat from Moscow, where man is the deep chill that settles over a wasted land.

There is the sense of a dreadful capitulation, a grave discomfort, a Stygian crossing into nothing. A loss that stretches into an infinity of carbon dust.

Image Laurent Baheux

Sonnet Adam Leather 9 November.