Reblogged from A poem for every day:
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Read more… 785 more words
This has long been the poem I most associate with Veteran's Day, so I was delighted to find it on the excellent blog
A Poem for Every Day. Emily's analysis of it is great too.
Published on November 11, 2013 05:54