What they never said
When you’ve seen your mate, you shared a laugh
and a smoke, turn into something you couldn’t bury
When you’ve shit yourself as the whistle calls you
over the top and you climb slow to let the eager die
When you’ve looked into the eyes of a man and see
the child calling for mummy but still you stab him dead
Then you’ll keep the home fires silent and make a
garden clear of poppies for the children to find laughter.
John Alwyine-Mosely’s poetry usually draws on autobiography or history as starting points but has only just started to seek publication. His most recent poems are in VerseWrights, and York Mix.