Trench Art
written by: Stephen Kingsnorth
Over the top, crȇpe poppies, red,
shimmy shimmer, stink from mud,
tissue, scarlet, issued flesh,
Western Front, breeze laid-by breath.
Trench art of departed soles,
balls of feet sunk into boots,
brute force launch, earthwork rat-run,
imprinted where tree boles once grew.
Curdle yells, blood, thoughts of home,
dead recalled, repeated years.
Stephen Kingsnorth, retired to Wales, UK from ministry in the Methodist Church with Parkinson’s Disease, has had some 300 pieces published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies.
Latest posts by Stephen Kingsnorth (see all)
- A Stable Place - January 1, 2026
- Que Sera - November 21, 2025
- Tree - October 15, 2025
