Journey of Words

Mud

They found a pictureFrom before the callMe in football kitArms crossedA scowlI left that shirtSpotlessCleanAnd dryI’ll soon be backMy hollow lieI lovedMudOn my knees and handsIn earsHairWith bumpsA little bloodPromise of a scarColours wonIn sportNowI restUnder some foreign fieldMud’s filledMy throatLungsNose and eyesNaught was sportThat July dayAs my platoonReturnedTo clay~n.b. The simple detail of the… 

They found a picture
From before the call
Me in football kit
Arms crossed
A scowl

I left that shirt
Spotless
Clean
And dry
I’ll soon be back
My hollow lie

I loved
Mud
On my knees and hands
In ears
Hair
With bumps
A little blood
Promise of a scar
Colours won
In sport

Now
I rest
Under some foreign field
Mud’s filled
My throat
Lungs
Nose and eyes
Naught was sport
That July day
As my platoon
Returned
To clay

~

n.b. The simple detail of the loss of Thomas William Malloy in WWI can be found in Coventry’s War Memorial Park. Unusually, his photograph was taken from a football team picture, not of him in service uniform. How he met his end, I know not, but mud was as vile an enemy in that war, as the despicable machinery developed to fight it.

n.n.b. Form after Robert Hillyer, as suggested in NaPoWriMo 2025 prompt, Day 9.

CLP 10/04/2025

The author

Chris Perry

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