The River Somme

by | Jun 26, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

“Is it in Kent”? Somebody said
“No, it’s in France; it’s full of the dead”
“Is it up north? Or down in the south?”
“No, it’s a river, it’s wide in the mouth”

“Is it quite young? Can it grow old?”
“No, it’s fast flowing, it’s dashing and bold”
“Is it blue water?, does it turn white?”
“No, it’s seen battle, it’s darker than night”
“Is it meandering”?, maybe runs straight,
“No, it’s in conflict, it’s war was called great”
“No, it’s through low land? Flat on both sides?”
“No, it’s where men died, it’s secret it hides”

“Is it still mentioned, talked of today?”
“No, it’s all over, it’s memories are grey”
“Is it in guide books, wrote down in French?”
“No, it’s broke both banks, it’s flooded the trench”
“Is it for your eyes, a must to be seen?”
“No, it’s horrendous, it’s no soldiers dream”
“Is it malignant, will it catch on?”
“No, it’s benign, it’s the Somme”


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