Poem by John Alter

Sum, some, Somme

He didn’t stand a
Prayer.
What in the mind is
Like fallen leaves,
Thousands
In a day, a kind of
Antietam,
I don’t remember
Well. Walking at odd ends
We came across
Stairs
Leading down to what
Once had been a
Graveyard, I think. Life
Shuts the book. Turns off
The microphone. Who’s keeping
Track of numbers anyhow?
58,000 British soldiers,
Battle of the Somme,
Some kind of single day record.