Tuesday 12 November 2013

Remembrance Day

Struggling to make headway writing anything other than indecipherable scribble in my journal on the bus trip to Hobart yesterday due to the constant bumping and thumping, I decided to have a break and take in the scenery instead. It was a rather opportune moment, as the bus had just pulled off the highway to let a passenger off in Ross. Not until we headed off again did I realise what the time was, so on this day when the faithful had taken time out to remember those who had left this little country town and not returned, I couldn’t let the moment pass.

Remembrance Day

No minute’s silence
as the bus passes
the handful gathered
with bowed heads
at the cenotaph
in the heart of town.

No respect
for those long dead.
No time
to spare a thought.
No pause
in the race from
here to there.
Disregarding
all but the schedule.

The passenger
had walked the aisle
at two minutes to eleven,
stepped off
and just as quickly
the bus sucked in its door,
cocooning us
at one minute to,
pulled away from the kerb
and dared to disturb
the reverence
as it brushed past the diggers
with medalled chests
right on eleven.

No minute’s silence
No respect
for those long dead
No pause
in the race
from here to there.





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