At Southend Cenotaph
November morning on the
The padre speaks the prayer, the mayor
stands dignified as sacrifice
for peace is claimed, and wreaths are laid.
I never served in war but rather
think of my father fresh from school,
mired in the muddy fields of France
till brought home by a blighty one,
more than eighty years ago.
For may years I have
bareheaded as the bugles sound,
to wear the poppy, mouth the words,
yet still our flags of war unfurl,
our guns still sound around the world.