on land

as you learn the names
written, then how pronounced
halls and manors emerge
ancient fishponds
clothed in algae
or claggy with weary leaves
a moat, walls, parkland
it becomes clear
this land
was once for the haves
and the hapless
its feudal form
stamped into the lanes
diverted around grounds
old metal fencing
that avoided the call up
due to the lord’s protected occupation
on the last remnant of green
the stone cross
scored by familiar names
two, three and more
brothers, father and sons
nephews, cousins
while in the cold flinty church
a memorial stone for one
whose family had enough 
to even mark their son
in death as special
when in foreign fields
the crows and rats
were not so precious
as to ignore the flesh
no different from that of farm boys
Faithful until death
the pay-off line under the cross
for those who died
so we might live
if it was the ultimate class war
unstaunched for four years or more
change would come
as all those whose dead weight
weakened the demands
that so few might make
upon the many

~

n.b. November comes around, when the old lie is spouted again, that King and country have a value worth sacrificing the nation’s young.

CLP 24/10/2024