Our Anonymous Dead

Morning wind probes highway waters,
pillows off a four-car war path.
Whiteout ahead. Wounded recruits

nightmare through whistling mental static,
the communication of artillery fire
crashing like a fruitless apology.

The wind doesn't blame. Wind swings
back to a high pass, searching for love
like a rare ethic buried in the mountain.

--David Stinson

Army sorry for urging dead soldiers to return to duty
8 rescued after avalanche buries cars
The 'Pillow Angel' and an ethical nightmare