I don’t consider myself a poet, but I wrote this very short piece of verse back in 2006 after experiencing the daily ‘silence’ at the Menin Gate in Ypres.
As the grey light faded
The traffic stopped and we stood
Surrounded by distant thunder
But still
Flags fell with the silence
We craned our necks
And climbed on shoulders
To stare
Angels gazed from archways
And wept along the walls
We looked on unknowing, but grasping
For something we could sense
Not see
The spell broke
Swept like leaves before the breeze
We walked away and ordered coffee
The message already fading
The light, though blinding, still unseen.
Don Lowe 