Foundered is a word where I come form to describe extreme cold, the kind that chills the bones, used as a superlative mostly but one that I like.
Foundered
Ashen faces, grim with grime
In soaked rags darkened dank
They trudged; so mud muddled,
Blood splashed and bullet blind.
We’re foundered the boys said,
A word for cold, desolate cold,
But not the homecoming kind
Of shutting doors and firelight;
The cold of the soul, of despair
Eating its way trenched in the
Very heart and rotting away.
We’ll never know that cold
A century ago, and our bones
Will burn quick or lie in peace,
Not foundered, or forgotten
Or blasted, shattered, sore
In the all dead man’s land.
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