93.

My great aunt sat at her window

The London sky beyond the heath

Alight with bombs, her mother,

A few years dead, had seen zeppelins

In the Great War. How the bomb-fires

Over Germany consumed young and old.

They died with ash in their mouths

The cinders smouldered after the bones

Could no longer laugh.

My grandfather, now dead, had left

For a place where

No bombs fell.