It is dusk

I crane my neck

Score her initials in

The condensation

Then wipe the window clean

A shirt cuff has many uses!

To the beat of hunting oscillation

From the passenger car I see

A glum star submerge

An inevitable sinking

Into the quicksand

That is the far horizon

Travelling coast bound

I leave in my wake

My impetuous inamorata

And head toward a place of

Trench coats and rain clouds

Arras and the

Undeterred stray dogs

I am told

Will molest anything

In search of sustenance

Soon the others and I will arrive

Folkestone Harbour Station

Our destination

The last piece of England

We shall set foot on

Soon we shall be in Calais

Soon we shall be at the front

Soon we will be at war

I shall write her daily if I can

I traded her intimacy

Her flesh and soul

For the thuggery of…