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Thanks, Max. A gentle poem of remembrance with a twist in the tail. Touching. Andrew On 17 July 2013 08:34, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Remembrance > > > Stepping northward > up St Kilda Road > > towards the city > we come to the steep > > rise of greensward > topped by the Shrine. > > Up its granite steps > panting somewhat > > we enter the dark > inner space of stone > > where a practiced > badged veteran holds > > young and old > with his spiel. > > Were we here > any November > > at eleven a.m. > on the eleventh > > we'd see a slim > shaft of sunlight > > strike through the stone > up there, fall here > > below on this carved > square at our feet: > > Greater Love > Hath no Man - > > a beam of light > at his command > > streams from above > slowly traversing > > the words. The Last Post > from some taped cornet > > resounds - that Anzac > Day slow music > > fraught with old burdens > when you fear the young > > bandsman will falter > or breathless faint. > > Our guide has recited > 'At the going down of the sun…' > > Most heads are bowed. > Mine is full of lesser > > 'remembrance' - I see > sundown in camp south > > of Auckland, conscripts, > eighteen-year-olds > > pausing by the canteen, > in khaki uniform, green > > felt 'lemon-squeezers',* > the flag being lowered, > > end of a strenuous > outdoor day of drill > > and acquiring of skills > useless in time of peace. > > History hasn't shone on us. > The sun sets beyond low hills. > > > *boy-scout-ish hats > -- Andrew http://hispirits.blogspot.com/ 'Undercover of Lightness' http://walleahpress.com.au/recent-publications.html 'Shikibu Shuffle' http://abovegroundpress.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/new-from-aboveground-press-shikibu.html