Monday, March 20, 2023

FIRST COUSIN, ONCE REMOVED

Coming in from overhead, drifting down

Towards the hospital ship, you notice her

The nurse with red hair, the one who's six feet tall

Or a bit more. It's D-Day and she's twenty-four

She's as strong as she'll ever be which is very strong

And doesn't limp as she will when she's old.

Because it has to be done, she's been carrying bodies,

Live ones and dead ones, putting them in beds,

In boxes, in rows. She cleans, cuts,

Sews neat, quick stitches, tells dying soldiers

They'll be fine and knows that she

Can and will not sleep for days and that her dreams

Will be such as she can bear. She sees you, of course,

And says "If you're not here to help, go away."



No comments:

Post a Comment