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With My Father: 1942

August 2001, no. 233

With My Father: 1942

August 2001, no. 233

‘The low clouds coming quickly

will break those trees

The sheep on that steep slope

will tumble into the gully’

I was twelve and troubled

when he also said

‘this storm will be the end of everything

I’m only joking so

don’t worry

let’s go home and hear

our wireless saying

how bad the war is now’

My father died that year

Last night I saw when sound asleep

my father’s ghost or one like him

floating from Armageddon

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