Escape

An experiment in alliteration, this is a poem of war from the perspective of the refugee.

Hunkered all in our huddled hives.
We slosh in muddy blood puddles
As the second war rings around.
Some hum in a quiet prayer
While others cry out in slurred curses.
Waiting for rescues not to be,
So some settle for shallow graves.
Nocternal prey - we move at dark -
slop slowly on trampled torsos
In the veil of nights black blanket,

Frosted in filth - we're only eyes.

Reviews

[Andrew Geary]

I thought this poem is okay. There's some good music and alliteration, but the first line reads to me cliched or the at the very least unoriginal. Maybe you should either excise it or revise it. The best part of the poem is the last line which leaves the poem with an interesting image that also happens to work as a good summation of the theme.

[Mike Mardis]

Thanks for the feedback, Andrew. I agree about the first line. It needs work. I wrote this a long time ago and was trying to explore the use of alliteration. I agree about the last line, it's my favorite. I also like the phrase "muddy blood puddle"

Thanks for the insights.