Southampton Dock

The disembarked in '45

And no one spoke and no one smiled

There were too many spaces in the line

And gathered at the cenotaph

All agreed with hand on heart

To sheath the sacrificial knives

But now, she stands upon Southhampton dock

With her handkerchief

And her summer frock

Clings to her wet body in the rain

In quiet desperation

Knuckles white upon the slippery reins

She bravely waves the boys goodbye again

Still the dark stain spreads between

Their shoulder blades

A mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves

When the fight was over

We spent what they had made

But, in the bottom of our hearts we felt the final cut