Body Bags

To all things, an ending.

Body Bags

The body bags are empty
Zipped, rolled up on the floor
Waiting for the next stage
The next move in this war
Driven deep in the trenches
In bunkers sheltered down
The gurneys are assembled
Rusty casters trundle round
As the body bags are loaded
With the bodies of late friends
Taken somewhere better
As means become the ends
The ends of greater stories
The memories they hold
I guess that’s just the way of things
Some tales don’t get told
The ones I would know better
If I’d had the nerve or chance
The times that we regret or…
The times we chose to dance
Twirling through bombardments
The ambushes we found
Lined up by departments
We marched on the same ground
Same ground in which we hunker
In the shelter of this night...
Can the last one out this bunker
Zip me up and kill the lights