Coming Home

Steve Pearson Poetry

I can hear the weeping mothers
Weeping for the end of days
Sons they gave
Peace to pave
Happy ending castaways

The hollowed sons who yet return
Behind dark retreating veils
Displumed youth
Too much truth
Like hammers to their nails

War exacts its incontestable price
Uncounted within its cost
Young soldiers all
As one they fall
Unknowable futures lost

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