The Road to War

The road reaches out and ahead, It lies stark beneath the sun,
Walled in by high hedges of differing leaves,
And vote of the bees will come to a bruise.
An old rose blooms out of the ground
With the mockery of nature rendering its fright, The noise of the world blotted out by song
And out over the stones, where the sound of life
Is silent behind, leads away from life.
Far down the road, I can see the bridge,
Yet trees trickle, soundless, overhead.

• Lesbia Harford