Exposure

• The merciless iced east winds that knive us
• But nothing happens
• incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles,

  Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war
• What are we doing here?
• Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence.

  Less deadly than the air that shudders black with snow
• We cringe in holes
• Slowly our ghosts drag home

  On us the doors are closed.
• For the love of God seems dying
• Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army

  Attacks once more
• Tonight, His frost will fasten on this frost and us