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