Armistice Day 2006 Poem by Andrew Fincham

I sit
my dead friend
where I sat
not one man’s length
from where we met
In sunshine
In the twilight of your days
Midday of mine
You caught my
voice by tone
& heard
my land was one
you once knew well
had fought from for you own.

I sip a glass
my dear friend
where we spoke of life
of simple things
like love and dark
of loss and light
of hidden trust
& forests
Friends now gone
in flowers
in flames
in cloud.

& you
who cared for those you drew to fight
counted on living fingers
those who did not die
recalled the lost amid the tumbling leaves
A simple tablature of deeds
Your face told much
you did not tell
I tried to understand
& raised a safe civil salute
to your blind eyes
And took your arm
Whilst still outside
The old sun shone
Its dying warmth
enough
to guide us home.