The Invisible, Solitary Tracks of the Fallen

[virtuoso]

On the continuously re-sodded field
no crease, mark squares the spot
where the fallen soldier lay

On the endlessly re-channeled tributary
no coagulated pool of blood
stains the jagged channel
where the smitten gunner fell

On the re-capped mountain ridge
no outline marks the shroud
that the stricken mercenary formed

On the deep ocean bottom
no relic, nautical marker
signs the murky groove
where the drowned seaman
sank to his final rest

In the ever-changing sky
constantly in a state of flux
no funneled trail stitches
together the transparent seams
that shuttled the injured airman
to his untimely death

In the re-timbered copse
no fallen tree, stunted stump
stands sentinel at the juncture
where the private's rotting corpse
fermented in the grimy moss

The forgotten remnants
still without due solace
lay in open, unmarked graves
without even a pauper's box
to shield their remains
or a consecrated cross
to sanctify their devotion

But light years above
the unrequited fray
stationed in the twinkle
of orbiting stars
a reconnoitering glint
from the bleary eyes
of ever-circling satellites
pierces the briny firmament
with laser-like precision
pointing to the transparent grooves
where their un-marked bodies laid