A
LETTER TO THE SECOND WORLD WAR
Dear Mrs War,
Dear Mrs War,
the
one middle-aged Britons hanker for,
you
happened, so you're not there any more.
Why
do we lack,
seeing
your legacies, the will to hack
them
for our own day and not want you back?
What
should I say?
Not
being there, you cannot go away.
Please
fade. Napoleon's did. They had their day.
This poem was originally written in response to one of the prompts in Jo Bell's 52: write a poem a week. It was for number 20, to write a poem in the form of a letter.
It has attained no publication higher than self-publication as part of a social media conversation. I tweeted it in response to colleague Clare Trowell's disquiet, working from home on a rainy day, at the sound of a Spitfire beyond the clouds.
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