(Don’t know where I’m going with this)
Her non smile sought him
Being prudent and afeared
He followed his feet
On finding a neglected memorial to a forgotten war …
The bugle’s long faded call took with it all promise of eternal memory.
Names carved in stone often lasted not much longer than the generation
that composed them, causes became historical and worse, academic,
families adopted new priorities and the dead faded into unrecognised
faces staring from indistinct sepia cards.
Perhaps it was for the best: the solutions to conflicts were invariably the
result of pragmatism and essentially found in the present with an eye to
The fallen remained beyond all wanting; such is the nature of lives and