the knight remembers a moment before the battle

two throngs in silence
the green mead between
the vagrant wind made known itself
grasses rustled
birdsong silked the stream
and hush
the trees the blessed trees
a rabbit
a squirrel
such frail things
their weakness a strength untold
my life
the sun has drenched the field in gold
the moment passed
these things ceased to be
we murdered Christ in the vales of arcady.