Birdsong. br br As he lay there br he became aware br br of the dirt br under his fingernails br br clutching on to the earth br as if it were possible br br to let go br & fall off into infinity. br br Up this close br his fingernails loomed br br like tombstones. br br Blood seeped br almost tenderly br br over the tips br of his fingers br br scolding him br for wasting br br his life br staining the soil. br br His fingerprints br looked like ploughed ridges br br obscured now br with blood and dirt. br br He felt br as if he were br br turning to br marble br br slowly he could feel it br creep down br br inch by cold inch br br his outstretched arm br like a statue br br as he died br into becoming br br the Unknown br Soldier br br the sound br of camera clicks br br all day br like little birds.