Remembrance

As a child I saw the sun
hanging over the marsh,
when it caught the first red rays.

In that marsh land
long-tailed widow-birds
glided deeper into the reeds.

Plover’s pretending
to have broken wings,
tried to entice me away
from their nests.

In life’s marsh
there were enemy soldiers
that was stone-dead,
while I had hidden deeper
into the reeds.

Groups of enemy patrols
cut past following the river,
to find my comrades and I.

Every time that the sun
hanged new over the reeds,
the enemy became less
and the chance to catch us diminished
and mosquitoes swarmed around me.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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