THEIR MOTHERS ARE PRAYING

[Maureen K Clifford]

THEIR MOTHERS ARE PRAYING

Just a face in a crowd and they all look the same,
no distinguishing marks or great claims to fame,
not seen individually just as a mob -
but each has a story to tell – Bill and Bob.

They’re keeping a secret and never will tell
if there’s something missing – their own secret hell.
The line in the sand had been drawn – it was so
and the power of words – made them rise –made them go.

Running for the finish with bayonets drawn,
they’re still running today - through all nations war torn,
though the uniforms differ – and the places do to -
wars utter futility still touches you.

So when the wind blows – soughing through the trees
then perhaps it’s their voices you hear on the breeze,
for wherever they’ve fought - ‘cross the world they do roam,
their Mothers are praying – bring them safely home.

Maureen Clifford © 11/10