On the horizon and blurred in passing smoke
figures move into the distant fields,
and closer the dead battleground
springs red grass blades.

Here the poet silently tiptoes, grieving,
another tear-stained handkerchief,
counting dying gasps and stealing
last words meant for a mother.

And count the words,
Place them side by side
Dead grass
Here I died
Scorched mud
Missing hand
Cou...

Read and leave comments (2)

But one single bullet, from barrel to throat,
Choked and opened the wounds of the world,
Unfurled in the seat of a phaeton,
Played on like the most tragic of tragedies,
Greek in essence but eastern in substance,
As Sophie wilts in the lap of Austria,
A single shot through the heart of a continent,
The blood racing fast to the carriage beneath,
Signals the start of relentless war lines,
It...

Read and leave comments (0)

AUNTIE ROSE

Auntie Rose
lived next door to us
here in Southwick.
Twenties flapper hat
Twenties clothes
Twenties shoes
...it was 1964.
Faded, but still glamourous.
Retired buyer
for Debenhams of Brighton.
Never married.
Every Tuesday
after primary school
I'd go round for tea.
Tinned herring roes on toast
Cheese and onion crisps
a game of snap
then home to bed.
Every Tuesday
I'...

Read and leave comments (3)

None of the class could put their uniform

on in under a minute, fit their gas masks

and speak in a BBC accent. Two ran off

to explore World War Two but got lost

in the Blitz. Boys cooed at machine gun

nests and gagged at the taste of canned beef,

mistaking it for mustard gas. Everyone

laughed at the tour guide's rendition

of "Oh! It'...

Read and leave comments (3)