Sentinel Poetry (Online) #38 The International Journal of Poetry &
Graphics Monthly ISSN 1479-425X
A Sniper
a sniper was dead
holding a rifle
I dare you to show me
a conductor who died
holding a baton
or a soprano
who bled to death
singing an aria
life is not a drama
death not its end
there is no stage
there is no curtain
I have no tear to shed
no voice to utter
a dead warrior does not weep
neither do I
