He will remember them
At the turn in the road
Where the bomb went off,
Tearing metal shrieks from wall to wall.
He will remember them
As they dodge sniper fire
Running up alleys,
Clattering gunshot spitting dustballs.
He will remember them
In ‘Grandmother’s footsteps’
Scoping for safety,
Staking out the next tiny advance.
And he will remember them
In the sombre evening –
The cold empty bed
Where a comrade will no longer sleep.
Jo Hansen 