Vanishing From View
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Entry for the Vanishing Point Poetry Contest: Sponsored by: Di11y Da11y
A crush of grey faces, solemn
against the grey sky, the grey sea;
a pale, youthful khaki column
slow board the ship from granite quay
from which a crowd; sisters, mothers,
cheer, with feigned encouragement
as they had done for all others;
one by one, families are rent.
Flags fail to flutter in the breeze,
too limp with early morning dew,
will not acclaim these enlistees
with glorious red, white, and blue.
They, silent, smiling, sharing smokes
depart, in dawn's colourless haze
with knowing stares at their kinfolks
where both their inner thoughts betrays.
The whooping horn, the splash of rope
the churning oily water, twixt they
and the widening space of hope
as the ship slow departs the bay.
Some linger, watch the vessel leave;
others close eyes, and turn their back;
all, secretly, already grieve,
as the yellow black topped smoke stack
vanishes from view
and, takes away those few.
Copyright © Terry Miller | Year Posted 2024
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