There will never be armies of genetically enhanced super-clones. Who needs expensive clones to fight their wars? There will always be plenty of cannon-fodder, born every single day, in the ordinary way.
in Lazy arcs
to mingle with the scattered multitude of kindred souls.
again, Time Victorious
passes a hand before the shifting mirrored image
of Purpose stir blood fires
Battle's promised glory sings
a siren song
Immortality of Poet's Praise and Minstrel's ballad
the once distant Dragons
twisting all they touch
in crimson mist
golden rolling waves of wheat
The Harvester's Scythe glints in easy arcs
Leaving the slender stalk to lay
© David M. Pierce 1979