A collection of poems and other writings...

Tuesday 28 July 2015

sock drawer


Is this the drawer
where Grandad
kept his gun
wrapped in an old crepe bandage?

This drawer
with tortured walnut veneer 
where I now keep my socks?

An old service revolver
from his time in the war
the Great War
wrapped in a crepe bandage
and tucked at the back
of this drawer
next to a small cardboard box
of ammunition.

And did you find it once
when, aged fourteen,
on a cold Sunday afternoon
you were searching 
in forbidden places
for string
or a thimble
or some such thing?

And did you
when you spoke to him later
of your find
and though the sharp rebuke had
stung your ear
then understand what he had
had in mind
during the dark days
of 1941
when Hitler seemed invincible
when the War seemed lost
when he had promised you
and Joyce
and Grandma
that Adolf would never
take his family alive?

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