Arnhem Poem by Thomas P White

Ex servicemen admire their red berets
In shop fronts, then move like wilting poppies
To retest the acoustics in cobblestone.
Why do they humpback scenic Arnhem?
To brush all blue mould off their facts
Or to hear the sea squelch
In polder once again, underneath,
Older, maybe wiser feet.

Some are heroes, got medals
Here to enact why they jingle still.
They clutch cameras like Enfield rifles
Half-cocked, alert for sudden fire.
The time lag caught between each click and flash
Is their museum. They are both object
And observer, sightseers looking for themselves
Among buildings that ruined their past.


First appeared in New Irish Writings
Irish Press circa 1985