Back in October, the gentlemen who presides over the Poetry Society I attend, gave us an interesting challenge. The poem theme was color. At first I wasn't sure what to write or how to go about it until I reread a few passages concerning the battle of Stalingrad. This is what I came up with. Tomorrow, I'll add a few photos and some audio.

Ukraine 1943

The days have become endless.

No matter where I look,

I see nothing but white.

There is no identifiable landscape.

My mind pushes forth images

Of the past, attempting to

Recapture missing hues.

I dream to see, the greens of

Pasture grass, the stunning yellow of sunflowers,

Or even the dark rick brown of a fresh,

Tilled field.

Despite the most valiant attempts

To recreate a rainbow of fluorescence,

my eyes only see endless rows

of waxen terrain.

At times, an ashen face or body part

Protrudes from the frozen tundra,

Revealing a small blotch of dried magenta,

Reminding me how close death stalks.

My soul slumps with the endless snowy show.

No life stirs in the landscape.

The few comrades who survived the onrush

Of metallic giants, have since succumbed

To the frosted, blanched land.

For me, I care not whether I live or die.

I only wish for a glimpse of vibrant colors

Before this bleak, endless bleached land,

 swallows me whole.

Copyright@2013 LDDJ Enterprises Publishing Jeff Dawson