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JUST BEYOND THE VILLAGE...

Just beyond the village –

they shot them all,

stripping them,

mocking the dead

in salute.

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What a dreadful winter has come! –

You’ve got your freedom,

now you’ve got your contested fields,

with poplars at your heads,

but there are no heads.

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When the night grew black –

something shone beyond the village,

walking about singing,

guarding, keeping vigil over

the blameless massacre.

1918