Sunday Poetry: Gerard Rochford

Declaration


Old men do war

they do it well;

feeling maps

with bunkered hands.



It’s all they can

through flaccid nights;

these civvy warriors

seldom sleep.



Armoured vests,

smart suits,

smiles fixed

like bayonets.



From hideaways

heroic memos

fire lives

on foreign fields.



In snug cathedrals,

under skeletal flags,

they pray for peace

and body-bags.



Gerard Rochford

(This poem was published at War Poetry.)