Thursday, November 11, 2010

"War poet"

I am the man who looked for peace and found
My own eyes barbed.
I am the man who groped for words and found
An arrow in my hand.
I am the builder whose firm walls surround
A slipping land.
When I grow sick or mad
Mock me not nor chain me;
When I reach for the wind
Cast me not down
Though my face is a burnt book
And a wasted town.

by Sidney Keyes.
Poems of the War Years: An Anthology.

London: Macmillan and Co., 1950.
[see also]

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