NO MAN’S LAND
what were you
doing in France
my young
Catholic friend
something to do with
a Vickers machine gun
and a Military Medal
despatch mentioned
and now no one
who fought in that war
to end all wars
(of which no
former combatant
now remains)
all on the line for you there, defending the bridge
against odds
overwhelming
those three daughters still
to be (the youngest
my Mother)
slipping in and out
of existence
with each German bomb,
shell,
bayonet and
bullet
death everywhere that
day
brushing up close,
questioning, admiring
I did not know you long enough
to know you
really love you
a part of
that history
the horror and the glory
yours that day
tell
me how it was
spare me no details
if we ever should meet each other
wandering between nowheres,
finding
each other in
No Man’s Land.
