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--chosen-work--
Easter Saturday at Festubert
At Festubert
We sit in warmth of stripling sun
And hear across the climbing corn the skylark's song
The daffodils
Drift proudly in official swathes
Beneath the hedges and on graves which lie between
A couple
Who old enough to know the loss
Inch quietly from cross to cross and move along
To read who still
Lie undisturbed in field or glade
But it is colder in the shade where they are seen
A secret tear
Tomorrow Christ shall rise again
Shall they arise who are the slain recounted here ?
They will not rise
For being blasted into parts
They nurture these fields from their hearts for evermore