Fallen

Fallen
though it is not your knee or elbow that is grazed
but your life erased
by what you heard but only saw a fraction of a second
before the moment

before
no more time passes.

Clocks stop
announce in eleven bells
that hell
waited in sodden land,
an acid shed,
a living room or factory floor
that tore
apart,
collapsed.

So the fallen civilian
beside the soldier
in a private non commissioned marriage
lay together wondering,
still.

remember
when November
rings her next eleven eleven
and clocks stop beating hearts
it starts

the impatience for peace.

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