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Richard R Radtke

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Member Since: May, 2008

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The Graves We Dig
by Richard R Radtke
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Just a short poem from the battlefield

The graves we dig

Seven by four by five
Dig it, dig it, deep
the dirt below still defies
Scratch it, shovel it, toss it aside
huddle, cringe, at the bottom
deep, deep, inside

The howitzer screams
in it's flight overhead
Searching, seeking,
death on its breath
but deep I've dug.

Cracking, Snapping
Many bullets fly
Each one hunting,
and now the cry, from
Deep, deep, inside

A target hit,
A victim found,
gurgling, strangled cry
and death
Deep, deep, inside.

Not deep enough
did he dig, today
The men and I
bury him in his grave
where he unmoving, still, lays...

We each feel it,
his passing as we stand,
looking at the graves
we've dug,
each one, with our own hand.

The graves we've dug,
each one, seven by four by five
in the rocky, sticky soil.
deep we dug, and held the line
and in our graves, stayed alive...



Copyright 2008 Richard R Radtke



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Reviewed by Lois Christensen
Buried, now laid at rest, hard to let them go, but it must be so.
Visit hubby's grave mostly each day, wish to be with him in that grave. I know how lonely I get each day, but have to live on til the grave accepts me as dead. When will that day come?
Reviewed by Linda Hill
How painful this poem is, but how much truth is in these words. So many soldiers, their lives snuffed out way to soon. Amazing imagery here.

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