General   (General discussion, talk about anything.)

THE ROAD TO ANTWERP


We have far to go
On this winter night.
Through falling snow
With no moon or lantern bright.

No warm winter clothes
Or warm hands to touch;
Only the pines of the Ardennes
And the sound of gunshot.

Onward, the road diverges and forks ahead-
But no stopping in this winter wood.
No sleigh to take us safely home,
And no bed to lie in but December mud.

All is real
And, all war is hell.
No carols sung by candlight,
Or aromatic peel or Christmas bell.

No turning back, no not now,
No road not chosen
As cruel as this-
Where death surely follows in footsteps amiss.

And the snowy night that beckons us
As the horses slow,
Will be the one we will never stop in
No never, no more...


Jarvo 2023