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the long good bye part one

You tap me on the shoulder and ask whose staff I'm on, Startled I try to tell you but see that you have gone Down the path of memory to a place of no-recall Where I'll no longer find you and you won't see me at all: Only a booted stranger you've never met before And a blur of marching soldiers, Marching into war. I set the cup down slowly, the broth i've made for you, I draw the curtains slowly to hide those scenes from view, But in the mirror darkly that stands beside your bed Your gaze picks out the shadows of the men that you once lead. You turn to me in wonder and ask where they have gone, I tell you they are marching, On down to Avignon. I know not what I'm saying, I blurt platitudes and lies, I want to stop your memories before they turn to cries Of dying men and horses, exploding mortar shells, The mud and blood of warfare, that very special hell Of living in the trenches when you were twenty-five And saw your generation Half crucified alive.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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Date: 9/16/2020 5:51:00 AM
Wow Carrick, vividly painted pictures. Thanks for sharing, Linda
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Date: 9/9/2020 6:04:00 PM
The brutality and ugliness of war in a beautifully put way.
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