He stands tall and lean, upon the deck of his grey ship -
He's felt the presence of stalking submarines, foreseen the course of torpedoes -
He's given counsel to young boys just called up, homesick for their narrow alleys -
He's boxed in draughty halls for his captain -
He's downed his tot over uckers in the mess -
There are three stripes on his arm, a wedding ring on his finger -
He'll face the dark, feel the ice in his hair -
Nothing will surprise him -
Like Causley's Chief Petty Officer, his forehead has been ruffled by the Jutland wind -
12.15
Wednesday 9 February 2017
Russell Cotes Gallery
Bournemouth
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