Get Your Premium Membership


Dresden, it is said, was bombed to an ashen landscape, A giant burned out match head. Explodable no more. Small Dresdens found along our driveway no longer smell of sulphur But remind me of Father lighting cigarettes. My father, nicotine addicted, Member of the greatest generation, That saved the world from Hitler and "El Duche" Who addressed the fascist crowds from balconies We shake rugs from All across a peaceful Midwest now. Nurses used to pass out Camel packs To steady nerves of soldiers switching trains As they waited at stations, Sergeants said, "Smoke 'em if you got 'em" To put stiff soldiers all at ease. Among foxhole faithful, it was thought Unlucky to be third man on a match. The first to gain attention, the second to sight how far away The third is shot between cupped hands That shield against the wind.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.