They pounded on towards Naples under heavy fire
She had been in bed no more than five minutes
German helmets wired to the radiators
She heard the door handle begin to turn.
British Military Policemen in red caps
The movement was gentle at first.
The rocky loom of Vesuvius
"Open this door, or I'll break it down," the
Marquis ordered.
Bulldozers now dug trenches at Paestium
There was no immediate response
Civilian bodies littered the town that day
His fist began pounding against the woodwork
They were doused in gasoline and burned in a pyre
Fanny jumped out of bed.
The bloated corpses, many of them children
"I don't," his lordship told her, "wish
to rouse the whole house
Entire platoons killed lay in shallow revetments
"Turn the key in the lock, Fanny."
Their faces black and hard like eggplant
"I said you were stupid the last time I saw
you,"
The living searched for the dead
He murmured softly
They smelled them out. The stench was terrible
Such an infinitely attractive pair of large green eyes
I covered my nose with parachute silk
That sometimes make me think of rock-pools
My clothes still smelt of death
To say nothing of your soft gold hair
The hunched, earnest diggers
That most determined little chin
The sprawling corpses with their dead eyes
As round and soft as a baby doe's nose
A cold dawn draining colour
Your confidence appears to be strictly limited.
An old man holding a rabbit by its ears
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