For the dverse prompt, an ekphrastic poem based on the painting by Franz Marc, killed at Verdun in 1916.
On days of wind
On days of wind, the washing blows
and billows in the shirts and sheets
flailing empty cotton arms.
So many lines across the land
with washing blowing in the wind,
the white and pink and palest blues,
a network of domestic peace.
I wonder who will bring it in,
when this day’s done, wind died away.
I wonder will the last night fall
on cotton arms and billowed sheets,
that blow unheeded in the wind.