You sit alone.
Too late for hope. Forget
The food to send:
The shoebox full of sweets and cheese.
Forget that kiss
You stare at space.
Forget the dreams
Ignore the empty cradle,
Turn your head and do not see
The babies which will never be.
He lies in wood.
White silk, blue sashes for his bed.
His pillow: cushions red.
Colours of the victory he gave
You were so proud
Of your regimental love.
What comfort politicians’ speeches now?
What comfort to remember how
You waited for him night and day
They are here.
No more alone, the time has come for memory,
For sweet tears, for what will be.
You have the music loved by him,
The ceremony and the din