(Rest And Relaxation)

How weary the clinking,
  the clanking,
  of metal weapons
  banging helmets,
  the shuffle of boots
  on crusted snow,
  shifting of packs
  on battle-sore bones;
  the deepness of silence
  loud in our ears.
  A grunt, a groan,
  a sigh, a moan;
  traversing a hill,
  then down to the road.
  Snowflakes are soundless
  except in our minds,
  swirling in hollows
  and sleepless red eyes.
  Marching to respite,
  metallic notes surround.
  Follow the road to R&R,
  five days in the sunlight,
  then back to the war.

  By: John Kent