2016 ends

Bleakness and fall. What we hoped built is lost.
They're at the gate to kill us one by one
In line. Remember when we basked in sun
That last good time. The dice gold coin we tossed
Unthinking. Now the sky is overcast
Sleet in our bones. The uniform is thin
Shaved scalps are cold. Your bloodied mouth's a grin
Despise their future. We had such a past

They could not want or know. Yet sing it proud
Make one last perfect music as we die
True joy that shames their misery guilt lie.
Hilarious intricate and bawdy proud

We are the thrush pierces their winter night
First hint green spring in soiled grey slush mud blight.

Another death poem

IN MEMORY OF THE RED ARMY CHOIR

White snowberry deep birch wood.Crisp pure white
snow crunches under soldier boot. They sing
Joy wistful angry shouting whispering
Tenor to pierce the soul bass deep as night.
Her brown black sparkle eyes bright as her soul
Or crops that waver endless as the sea
Rich deep black soil grave of each enemy
Each generation and their voices roll
Like rivers through the heart blood workers red
Patriots shed on every inch of ground
Massage our ears that fierce and healing sound
Bayan and balalaika. And they're dead
And singers die and there is still the choir
To say the land's eternal death's a liar