Clemens
She should be dead.
The child drowned –
Man, soldier, impaled –
Driod destroyed before
they crashed here.
She should be dead.
Why so insistent?
An autopsy demanded
by a tearful red eye.
Why burn the bodies?
Her companions, friends,
daughter and love?
No.
A weak lie –
long forgotten disease.
She should be dead,
but she lays
and with me.