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War This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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In bello nihil tam leve est quod non magnae interdum rei momentum faciat - Livy

Now is the time for eerie wind.
Now is the time for darting rain.
Here young, red leaves tear from the boughs -
And on the grass their heaps are lain.
A premonition’s in the wind,
There’s something hurting in the rain.
And breath is bitter in the air,
To touch wet ground is to fingerpaint.
A cloud’s come from beyond the seas
To bring us tidings of the slain:
The bawl of boys is on the wind,
Their blood is mingled with the rain.


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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