A Missive From The Trenches Poem by Dean Meredith

I love it when the narrow end reveals itself early
When my doubters are my supporters & I support them
Some talk of glory, most of us laugh some cry
Barb wire she's old but consistently effective

She's on my wanted list; I have it in my pocket
He reaches down, the gun is inevitable
Mine goes off, his follows then hers
We go down, all three of us low & mighty & proud

We stole each other's hunger, fuelled it
Saw weeping heavens, pink soft feet
Felt skin shivering & grains of sweat
Her voice a holy solo praying

She takes me down quite unexpectedly
Tries to sooth me but I'm gone or going
I want to take her too but no he says it's selfish
I argue back & lose …

I was her Spartacus, whether she wanted one or not
A miraculous hero, there to help save them both
Oh boy she'd heard that before, tried to dream on
He was fatter and older and greyer like her

They still had things in common, you know besides sex
I know I wasn't supposed to say it but I did
It always flows through, I've said that too
I'm trying to be older and wiser

I see her on the dance-floor standing her ground
Elbows primed and ready, please don't try her
She is fearless and will not lose
I carry her armour …