World War 1 Poem

Alone in the house
Except for the baby.
Will there be news?
Possibly. Maybe.

Clap. Clap. Clap.
Steel boots on the road.
The bringer of news
That doesn’t want to be told

The clapping stops.
God, don’t let it stop here.
The washing is dropped.
The incredible fear.

He carries a bag
Of telegrams yellow
You burst into tears
At the subdued “Hello.”

“Missing in action”
“Presumed dead”
“Shot for cowardice”
“Wound in the head”

But the clapping continues
The messenger moves on
You husband is safe
He will live on

The baby starts crying
A terrible row!
But your husband is safe
At least, for now.