Before the Veterans Die

Poetry of World War II by Dale R. Carver

Note: Reprinted without permission for private use only. No copyright infringement is intended.

A corpse in the road, a column of tanks
in a clanking, grinding fury,
maroon mud and dog-tags --
nothing to bury.

Sugar-clean snow spotted
with steaming flecks of red --
the jack-knifed body of a friend,
a hole through helmet and head.

Solace of sorts they offered
to us, uncertain of life.
We took the joys they proffered
in the interludes from strife.

We thirsted for something greater,
something they could not give.
Some of us found it later,
but some of us did not live.

Please visit my WWII-related website,