My apologies for the bleak subject this time.
I was looking around the internet for copyright-free poems when I stumbled across this one. It drew such compelling images in my head that I just had to try and get something down.
The words are by Siegfried Sassoon:
Survivors
No doubt they'll soon get well; the shock and strain
Have caused their stammering, disconnected talk.
Of course they're 'longing to go out again,' —
These boys with old, scared faces, learning to walk.
They'll soon forget their haunted nights; their cowed
Subjection to the ghosts of friends who died,—
Their dreams that drip with murder; and they'll be proud
Of glorious war that shatter'd all their pride...
Men who went out to battle, grim and glad;
Children, with eyes that hate you, broken and mad.
Craiglockhart.
October, 1917.
The words drew such a strong reaction from me since I had, some days earlier been listening to a radio broadcast detailing the mental health of today's soldiers. Some things just do not change.
The words and image are printed onto silk fabric, the background uses the chance-dyed dye catchers I have collected over the years. Lastly, the whole is overlaid with some sheer fabric, and hand stitched.