Snapshots of Attrition

The survivors have definitive proof
those lost in the battle shall
forever be indistinct and
at the edge of abstraction

The living ones, who have shown their
measure and gripped the sides of
reality with whitened knuckles,
iron in their eyes and copper
in the blood, have known evil
and run one step quicker

The triumphant ones have clenched
their teeth and allowed what
can't be saved to slide from
the decks and be swallowed
by the deep, killing yesterdays
to feed the hungry mouth of
tomorrow

The pictures we have seen in
the mirror, hollow eyed and
uncertain, wan as sleep eludes
us again into the heart of the
night, snapshots of our own
battle of attrition, our empty
hands in the wash basin scrubbed
once too often but still feeling
sticky with the substance
of abstract folk we have lost
upon the road.