incarnate

perhaps if you are the fallen soldier

reborn from some weary crusade

then I am your widow left waving red

reliving life without my man

stoic and bracing for any more news

of  loss noone knows how to bear

this ancient thread of woe and rebirth

never quite recovery at all

I hold you in mind – all that I have left

though some days this also eludes

I am the widow of millions of men

reliving my history of war.

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