XXII – A.E. Housman

I read this poem this morning courtesy of a Facebook post by a friend from college. Beautiful imagery, and a wonderful glimpse at the depth and expanse of the connection between people.

 

XXII – A.E. Housman

 

The street sounds to the soldiers’ tread,

And out we troop to see:

A single redcoat turns his head,

He turns and looks at me.

 

My man, from sky to sky’s so far,

We never crossed before;

Such leagues apart the world’s ends are,

We’re like to meet no more;

 

What thoughts at heart have you and I

We cannot stop to tell;

But dead or living, drunk or dry,

Soldier, I wish you well.

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