Someone took a photo
of him coming back.
Hat held in the hand
of the arm his coat
is folded over, the
suitcase on the ground.
Squinting into the sun
first sign of the smile,
warming his face,
as he saw his mum.
He was back from the war,
though he told me once,
"You can't take it off
like a suit".
If you could, somehow,
arrange to have him in
the same place every year
and take a picture.
Much would not differ
from year to year
but the face would change,
especially in the 1990's
when he just lost interest.
Betrayed by Labour,
and scornful of the rest,
sometimes even hateful.
Until he seemed used up.
Compared to that arrival photo
when he is back, alive
and beginning to realise
that he had made it through
and knew that his country
would not let him down.
4 comments:
Moving words, A.K.
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Thanks, Thunder
Sad and touching. Nice job Hamish.
Thanks Ladydedlok. It seems to be an ongoing issue through out history
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