There in tethered fields with damask foliage
cemented cannons rested over fields of graves
each shaded grove a mausoleum,
ghosts yearning for the rise of fallen flags.
Well I’m stuck on this one. Usually I can get myself unstuck but I’d like to take this as an opportunity to try to engage here, which is sometimes very difficult. If anyone finds this useful as a writing prompt, I’d love to see where you take this simple quatrain. Send me a link or a comment if you find my missing inspiration and have a nice Thursday.