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Tug of War

ISSUE:  Autumn 1955

Upon the rough earth rusting,
Mind backward grows toward boys
Who wonder at the blasting
Through louder tinkle of toys.

The day a soldier flinches,
Mind younger grows toward years
Where sandpiles blur with trenches,
Bad wolves with bombardiers.

Across barbed wire dangling,
Will ever hands unmesh
Two things not meant for tangling,
This metal and this flesh?

Unblur, unblur these games,
Restore the toy each lacks:
Mary will find new lambs,
The madman will find his axe.


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