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Friday Australian poem #19: Vance Palmer (1885-1959)

14 Dec

The Farmer Remembers the Somme

Will they never fade or pass!
The mud, and the misty figures endlessly coming
In file through the foul morass,
And the grey flood-water ripping the reeds and grass,
And the steel wings drumming.

The hills are bright in the sun:
There’s nothing changed or marred in the well-known places;
When work for the day is done
There’s talk, and quiet laughter, and gleams of fun
On the old folks’ faces.

I have returned to these:
The farm, and the kindly Bush, and the young calves lowing;
But all that my mind sees
Is a quaking bog in a mist – stark, snapped trees,
And the dark Somme flowing.

somme1916

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Posted by on December 14, 2007 in Australia, OzLit, poets and poetry

 

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