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TANKS
Folder:
Falklands 82
Out of the darkness ,
The rumble of Thunder .
Tanks
Tank alert ,
The snake stops ,
and splits .
To the bare arsed slopes of the hills ,
There’s no cover .
There’s no where to go .
The ground vibrates beneath your feet .
The thunder rolls on past.
As the wooden bridge
to your front,
Is once again put to the test.
Hooves clatter over loose planks .
Bodies rise from the grass .
As the snake writhes on .
They mentioned sheep and penguins .
They’d never said a word about horses .
