Patience
Sat quietly at the table,
Cauliflower ears,
Thick misty glasses,
Shovel hands.
Cards turn,
Fwip fwip,
“Come, and I’ll teach you Patience;
I played it in the war.”
The cards are laid down.
Seven neat stacks.
“It passed the time,
While I waited to be torpedoed.”
The cards are turned,
Revealing their faces.
“That was the second war,
Not the first.
That one,I spent in the trenches.”
Three cards are dealt,
And an Ace placed on its own.
“So terrible, I never wanted
To see the army again.”
Another three cards.
“Not even prisoners were safe.
When there were too many,”
Fwip, fwip, fwip,
“Someone would slip a mills bomb
In their kit as they marched past.”
A pause, another run of cards.
“You’re a good lad:
Here’s ten pence for the sweet shop.”
And the lesson continued.
Sifting the past,
Along with the cards.
