In the trenches we wait <br />Rain pouring down <br />Our mud-soaked uniforms <br />Pasted to our bones <br /> <br />We wait <br /> <br />Puff on a cigarette <br />A deck of cards <br />A broken box <br />And a tin can meal <br /> <br />We wait <br /> <br />Passing the time <br />The bullets fly overhead <br />Occasionally <br />And sometimes we hear <br />The screaming <br />But most of the time <br />We block it out of our minds <br /> <br />And wait <br /> <br />Sleeping where we stand <br />Until someone gives the order <br />And it’s our turn to die. <br /> <br /> <br />(Previously published in The Hold, June 2003)<br /><br />Laurence Overmire<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/entrenched/
