Charles J. Ingerson


The night had come
tents pitched about
rest maybe for some
others on watch stout.

Piercing then the soul
taps played reverently
a chill seemed to pull
in the dark embracingly.

The fighting still heard
distant cannons roar
peacefully a bit absurd
how can spirits soar?

Clarion the stillness felt
wherein silence unknown
unconsciously I then knelt
with gratefulness shown.

It isn’t in the peace sounds
amid my struggles of fear
while an inner self rebounds
deep in a refiners fire sear.

I linger in an edge of night
with the symbols clarion
giving the energy to fight
and to forever carry on.