'PASS it along, the wiring party's going out' -- And yawning sentries mumble, 'Wirers going out.' Unravelling; twisting; hammering stakes with muffled thud, They toil with stealthy haste and anger in their blood. The Boche sends up a flare. Black forms stand rigid there, Stock-still like posts; then darkness, and the clumsy ghosts Stride hither and thither, whispering, tripped by clutching snare Of snags and tangles. Ghastly dawn with vaporous coasts Gleams desolate along the sky, night's misery ended. Young Hughes was badly hit; I heard him carried away, Moaning at every lurch; no doubt he'll die to-day. But we can say the front-line wire's been safely mended. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LATE SINGER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE RESURRECTION by JONATHAN HENDERSON BROOKS TO THE LADYBIRD by MOTHER GOOSE EASTER by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: CONDEMNED by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |