The Infected Soldier


The infected soldier holds his post

He knows the feel of the parapet

The stone made smooth by other arms

The sound and smell of field and marsh

The flow of river and of tide.


He knows as well the ache inside

The thigh or throat becoming numb

The singing lark he has not heard

The laces he cannot re-tie

But he will hold until he dies.


If in the enemy’s cunning lies

There once was strange and alien truth

If in the cause that smoothed the stone

A shattered body lay untold

He will not know until he dies.


This is one of a few poems I’ve written which feature a soldier who does not know what he’s fighting for. There’s also a suggestion of another figure that reappears in my poems, a guard or watcher who does his duty and waits while nothing happens, waiting for something that may happen.


Copyright Simon Banks 2012


Leave a comment


  1. LadyBlueRose's Thoughts Into Words

     /  September 30, 2012

    I think most soldiers today wonder what they are susposed to be fighting for…
    you captured their thoughts well Simon…


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