In response to the prompt in remembrance of the tragedy of 9/11, I am linking a small poem I wrote a couple of years ago. To markRemembrance Sunday, which fell when my son was serving his first tour in Afghanistan, I went to Brookwood Military Cemetery. The service that year was held in the Canadian part, and I was made welcome. Although the service was mainly in French, and my language skills have stagnated since I was at school many years ago, it made no difference that I could understand only one word in ten.
It underlined for me that remembrance crosses all boundaries – language, culture, gender, nationality, religion, and even specificity of events – whilst this is not about 9/11, it could be said that the war it is about emerged from that event.
Here is what I wrote. It is very short.
Remembrance in Brookwood Cemetery
Beneath an almond-marbled sky,
headstones standing to attention.
Side by side veterans sigh
their pride at every comrades mention –
once close friends from days gone by.
Tree limbs stretch in supplication,
skies release a weep of rain – an
all enveloping cloak of pain.