Edmund Prestwich

Fleeing War

Fleeing war they carry it inside them.
With eyes like bombed out rooms
they’ve stared at roads like river beds of rubble.
In hunger without hope, they’ve waited, hearing
thunder in the sky. Stunned with dust
they’ve stood like ghosts in the silence after bombs..
Now riding on their fathers’ shoulders,
leaving their living friends, their dead, their homes,
they take them over crossings into nowhere
through fields, up railway lines, down lanes of flowering
may.

Edmund Prestwich has published two collections, Through the Window with the Rockingham Press and Their Mountain Mother with Hearing Eye. He has published poems in a wide range of magazines and reviews for several. Since retiring as a teacher he has been a tutor for the Poetry School in Manchester.