Military Transport: Cyprus 2018

The writer is waiting. It’s his first drive To an army school on an army base, Unsure what vehicle will arrive, Whisk him to the poetic front. His face Is fixed, shoulders back and feet apart He looks again at his itinerary ‘Military transport.’ Be still his heart As he contemplates what that might be, Maybe a jeep or a tank will rumble in To the hotel car park and bear him off And like an army general deliver him With the sound of trumpets and all that stuff. Then a taxi, not even khaki brown, And the poet’s dreams come tumbling down. © James Nash 2018

Archive
Search By Tags

© 2018 James Morgan Nash - Writer and Poet - Leeds, West Yorkshire, United Kingdom - james@jamesnash.co.uk 

  • James Morgan Nash - Facebook Page
  • James Morgan Nash - Twitter
  • James Nash Visual Diary
  • James Nash Readings