over sunken shadows; there's a newness
to this gravity
now the sun is halved on hunched shoulders,
and startled birds
follow their deepened flutters,
spraying the scraped sky.
The fidelity of the stately statue
honours the dead: freshly pristine
it boldly reflects in the Goliath of glass.
How they swiftly came and left, hardened hats
deep rumbles; here is our blood, sweat.
Ray Samuc is an administrator and philosophy graduate from the North West of England. He has had a poem published recently in Black Poppy Review and in other journals including Blue Lake Review and others. You can read his poems here; raysamucpoetry.wordpress.com