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Excerpts from “After dispersal” and other poems by Ellis Wynne Evans [this is David’s poetic alter ego]
“Regret” (April ’44) For any Bomber Command Gens[?]

The last ten minutes told
While the summer seen
Cast a parting glance
Over a Cambridge wold.
A restful silence spun
An aura of finality
Yet we were unaware
That we had missed
A last communion with the day
The sweeping cirrus flare
Seemed to writhe and twist
And pour into the furnace of the West.

—

“Xmas 1943” at Stalag IVB
I’m wintering on the continent
This year my dear,
I know it isn’t quite what we intended,
But centuries have told
We learn as we grow old
That fickle Gods will sometimes be offended.
So this Christmas you see
For us is going to be
A very very different sort of thing
The champagne and the wine
With which we’d planned to dine
For me has been replaced
By meat that is encased
This year my dear…