After the Battle
Light lands softly on eye-lids closed or op’d,
From travelling far, further than the fastest flight traveller,
From Nature’s fire, comes burning bright the sheerest lamp
Lit in darkest night; aglow ever, aye bright.
~
A crack of noise, clamouring bells enjoy’d from
Steepled kirks clang sonorously on, unregarding of
Land’s horizons, breaking out as warlike shout
In echo’d corbid screams: demonic, encloaked, blacked;
The tuneless sheen darkly disturbing the day-long night.
~
A flame rises ever haughtily from bright brands of knotted pine;
Burning spark that feathers in heated bursts, consume lifeless larded
Porkish tallow, skewered fiercely by fiery death’s spear;
Watched, round about, by famished soldiery with knives, as
They whet in short keening swings, searing sinews through tortured tallow.
~
And their eyes now a’closed, all surplus’d in sotted scarlet wine, that
Drools down gob-let and doublet, clothing and hose; en-pillowed rest
As to their day-ending nest the fighters hest like babes at breast
Of mother’d earth; seemingly breathless, heartless yet homeless, strongly safest
Sleep lightlessly, soundlessly, fearlessly, childishly;
In huddled, puppy’d trust
Lippingly, drippingly, wearily, unwontingly
Sleep deep.
© Dr John N Sutherland, 2025