War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

little corner of England (4)

the little train rattled past Commando camp
I recognized ranges well before the sign
spotted boys in green bellying mud
a Sgt Maj’s mouth wide, jacking them up,
jacking them up to keep them all alive
in English rain, the razor wire’s silver rings
around a rosy desert pox that never sings
and where are you, not by my side,
I hope you’ve taken leave, your boy,
headed north, to cast a line, a hook
some bait, to snag this line, this little train, me,
a shiny silver fish across the great green sea.

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The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled little corner of England (4). It was posted here on June 26, 2011.


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