Michael Cullup

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There's the noise of fireworks
breaking up the nights with rifle fire
bursts on machine gun, bren
then heavy ack-ack
and the occasional close ear-splitting bomb
like the bombs behind Wakefield's house
and up Sand Road:
bombs that killed no-one
but took our windows out.

Pale-faced and very deaf,
my grandfather hears another war
even further back:
the crump of shells in mud
and the dark thunder of the Howitzers.

He looks through the shattered panes
hears in his head the screams of broken men
and feels the world rocking on its axis.

from: A CHANGE OF SEASON (Greenwich Exchange 2010)

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