Shot down at dawn <br />The dew still plucking at the mud. <br /> <br />The lions stare <br />Defiant and proud, <br /> <br />Half risen sun, <br />Burning in his eyes, <br /> <br />No fear curled up, <br />Behind black pupils, <br /> <br />Chin held high <br />Neck stretched taught, <br /> <br />First morning mist <br />Pulling at his boots, <br /> <br />Like the first wisps <br />Of heaven, <br /> <br />Young boys hands <br />Held calm behind his back <br /> <br />To give his life <br />For king and country. <br /> <br />Executed at dawn <br />The dew still plucking at the mud.<br /><br />sal carter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mourning-mist/
