Dear Mum
From your son
Like a candle in the wind
the smoke that drifts away
we have gone to fight a war
and we hope and pray.
One day in a future
right down to the core
we will return one day
from this foreign shore.
It’s about mateship and bonding
and sharing of the strife
the invisible string
that holds a fragile life.
Despicable conditions
gunfire intermittent
from hidden positions
we only show commitment.
Living in the moment
swallowing a cry
a hapless opponent
and case of do or die.
Young Aussies sacrificing
our natural attrition
proudly nationalising
a strong ANZAC tradition.
Some are lost forever
killed or traumatised
a body part that’s severed
or mind that’s mortified.
Sacrificial duty
for country and for kin
spoiling natural beauty
committing mortal sin.
We celebrate the liberation
given by our fathers and brothers
but not the mutilation
and our hapless forlorn mothers.
Let’s hope that we remember
the slaughter and the pain
and the dying ember
of those that went insane.
I write this for my brothers
and those that know the score
a goal that is farsighted
the ending of the war.
From your son.
© David Rudder
15th October 2020
Thanks for reading.
