Day: Nov 11, 2014

Dirt in the Wrinkles [new poem for Armistice Day]

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dirt_in_the_wrinkles

“It’s time to roll the barbed wire out, boys!”
said the sergeant’s raspy singsong voice —
his Aberystwyth accent sending chuckles
down the line of threadbare, rain-soaked soldiers
(all around them potholes hissly smoulder)
scrambling in the mud with clouding breath.
[That day 3000 lads or more had met their death].

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