Passchendaele Poem by John F. McCullagh
Passchendaele
Although we were told
that casualties would be high,
still we rose up,
answering the officer's whistle-
moving our legs through the muck-
cutting our way through
the barbed wire of doubt-
We charged across Love's minefield
driving the foe before us
at this, Love's Passchendaele.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Love
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Love's field is a battlefield and Love takes no prisoners. At the battle of Passchendaele the casualty rate nearly matched the current American divorce rate.
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4/25/2024 12:15:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
