The Dress of Battle

The Dress of Battle

The battle is lost and
I have not saved anyone.
She left with
nothing to wear
and nothing to say
when I sent her away.

Empty wars she said.

She is not rescued nor
am I.

How do you know if
the sun will shine
when the night is dark
and she has left forever

It is so cold alone
to be naked in the night
interrupted by bombs

Why dress for death
when lost blood is warm

How am I to bleed well
when she doesn’t love me anymore
and there is no rescue. Honor?

I don’t think the sun will rise
and I have no clothes
but her memory

— Douglas Gilbert