Hallowed Interval

A hallowed interval
Between cows munching on grass, on thistle
And the newly opened, freshly exposed
Second front. Embattled, mercury-backed

Bored and blood-soaked
Re-enacting tragedies, heraldries of another age
In the language of another dimension
That seems like the breath of death.

Vapours from another country’s breakfast table
Salt, pepper or some other marinade. Beware! They ensnare.
A smiling soldier stalks forth. His bright blue eye
An explosion exposing the meaning of purity