The farmers are accustomed to sifting
bones and teeth from their peaceful pastures – 

the same their ancestors saw overturned. 
They saw men swallowed without a name or age,

far from a mother's prayer or lover's embrace.
Liberated from fear and choking

on mud and horsehair and flesh of comrades
and enemies alike, shrapnel hacking at throats

never shaved, rifles strapped across twis...

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