The Poetry Society

 

       A Star Shell
 
In a moment the world is shattered,
    sub-divided into fractions of itself.
We freeze in its mathematics.
    The trench floods with rivers of light;
mud quickens into life and the barricades
   become the linked arms of children.
 
All of the universe turns on this point,
   a precursor of the final reckoning,
the second before the sun implodes;
    a flash of beautiful clarity when God
presents himself, shining on the wasteland:
   a tender eye over his razed creation.
 
It is not the moment after I remember
  but the fabric of our tunics, the accent
of light on our helmets, the spots of rust
   on our belt brass and the olive green of the
subaltern’s eyes;  the star drifts peaceably
   to the earth and in an instant – gunfire.