Item 01: G. O. Hawkins articles and notes ca. 1916-1919 - Page 117
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[Page 117]
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he has not yet scored a hit. Now and then, however he gets mighty close to one of them. His shells occasionally fall into the powdered remains of the village re-wrecking ruin and dislodging the buried dead.
The great sun regardless of mans bitter contention and foolish strife floods the haggard face of the earth laid waste by war with soft glory.
A bee worries a homeless daisy that has managed with its tender roots to hold its place in the soil and bloom in the protecting shadow of a stone.
A snail marks in silver her traverse across the shard of an exploded shell and seeks patiently for some green blade or leaf.
A wasp builds her nursery of mud in the battered remains of a gun carriage. A dead mans withered hand protruding from the sunbaked clay of a parapet is