All night long, small watch fires burned
Here and there in brain and bone.
Intruders crept through the dark.
The lungs would panic and cough
At the slightest disturbance.
The mouth swallowed itself dry,
And a thick fog bleared the dawn.
A muttering runs through the corps:
Where will we be marched to next?
This day could hold anything
Between now and next midnight,
The bones crawl back in their bunks
And try to lie very still,
Hoping others fight for them.
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