Shadows slip between
The houses
In the early
Afternoon
Silent shadows in the sunlight
Slight as rumour
Strong as the
Sun.
In empty streets
And over
Ancient fields
Victory marches
On its secret feet
For here, we
Are in Shadow
– where the Light
Meets Matter,
Where
The warming Sun
Makes Cold –
Where Radiance
Produces
None
Here we are all strangers
And must die alone
Words run like mercury
From mouth to mouth –
But we hear nothing
Armies are marching
From strike to strike –
But we see no one
We shoot at Shadows
Fear
Is our Air,
Surprise,
Our destroyer,
Orders,
Our enemy
Ghost of the field
Child of the
Street.
Victory marches
On its secret
Feet.