These woods are strangely silent now.
No star shells burst to light the scene.
The earth has binded up her wounds.
No rats feast here, no wounded scream.

I walk upon the souls of men
They were sent here for the fight.
They lived like moles entrenched in earth
And rose to fall upon first light.

I still can hear those whistles shrill
My minds eye shudders at the sight.
I saw my friends, my brothers fall
While somehow I survived the fight.

My fingers are gnarled like the Hawthorne’s branches
My eyes cloud over in bright light.
I alone of that brave company
Have seen a century of nights

Forgive me now my brave companions
That I remain and you are gone.
Soon enough I’ll come and join you
The last of those who fought the Somme.