Hide
In the Panjshir or Ardennes of your self
Diagram a response
Enemies out
Nine digits and matronym
Hide
Die in this bunker
Crouch, center-room
They clear the room
One left, one right,
Each muzzle A beam of sight
They pace a bridge of tactics
Cut it down, they'll never return
This island, this valley, my kingdom
Remain; when I die
The concrete will attest
Make my mark here, in the field,
A pillbox dents the flatness of the horizon
Spent shells of the day
Spent or otherwise unspent
Spent or otherwise unexploded
Spent or otherwise
Collect them in the darkened Ardennes
forest of the evening,
leaflitter, sundapple and dusk.