Rebel Asleep
Rebel slept under boughs of ditches
Where the wet cold bog kept him safe from harm
From wind, from those who sought him as their quarry
He curled up, insomuch as he could be warm…
What were his dreams – his nightmares fierce
His family killed, missing, the heat of battle?
We know not the sleeping rebel dreamed
No more do we know the dreams of cattle
At slumber neath such bushes there
Nameless, as the skies break to the dawn
To freedom, or the chance of it, freedom must be risked
Fate must be chased, thinks the rebel, as he stretches to yawn.
