The return
Through the cloudsover the hills
across a world
pock marked
by war
a child
and a sandwich
made from black rye bread
travelled
her suitcase
bartered and borrowed
sorrowed and sawn
a teddy bear stuffed
with sawdust
and the dank smell
from a harbour
and sailors
war sore
hearts torn
fractured families
return
and peace
has never
been so
shocked
as a soldier
offering
a square of chocolate
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2020-05-08 at 18:32
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Lawrence Beck |
Christopher Fernie |
Texts |
by Elle Latest textsTwo Little CatsHills Not the End Cinders Oh perfect Day |
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