Solar Isosceles and More Debris

Sometimes poems arrive in clusters, even when we don’t plan them. After posting A Fistful of Sand (CHW), another anti‑war piece surfaced, and Beyond the Debris continued that same uneasy thread …
It seems I’ve unintentionally written a small trilogy — each poem looking at conflict from a different angle, each one carrying its own weight. Tonight’s piece steps further into the aftermath, where the smoke settles, and the world tries to breathe again.

Solar Isosceles and More Debris


From behind the bushes and trees,
crows crash through the branches and leaves.

And flee toward our solar Isosceles,
like blind bats that can now see
beyond the world’s charred canopy –

a toxic cloud of wartime debris
and the smouldering embers
of expendable draftees.

Ivor Steven ©  April 2026