Auden & Isherwood <br />strolling in China <br /> <br />trying to soak up <br />The War <br /> <br />by the process of <br />osmosis <br /> <br />staining it <br />with words <br /> <br />observe <br />(at first what seems) <br /> <br />green horses <br /> <br />but turns out to be <br />only white horses <br /> <br />painted green <br />for camouflage purposes. <br /> <br />That evening in Canton <br />also offering them <br /> <br />the futility of two men <br />trying to put a rat <br />into a bottle <br /> <br />a woman who lived <br />in a beehive <br /> <br />pouring water <br />into a sieve. <br /> <br />War knocks <br />over the inkwell <br /> <br />spills <br />into men’s lives <br /> <br />covers the white pages <br />of their wishes <br /> <br />makes the idea of Hell <br />...all too real. <br /> <br />The spilt ink eating <br />the words of men <br /> <br />who send letters home <br />and die in pain <br /> <br />never to return <br /> <br />only in other’s memories <br />& useless dreams <br /> <br />...marble memorials <br /> <br />while green horses <br />champ the grasses <br /> <br />the bridles & the bits <br />clanking & glinting <br /> <br />in the hot sun <br />of Now <br /> <br />as this last lost evening <br />dies.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/horse-of-a-different-colour/
