As the snow falls
I think of a Christmas
Many years ago.
An evacuee in a small village
My home in London had been bombed
My favourite toys destroyed.
I sat round a coal fire
Knitting dolls clothes
For the Woman’s Institute.
So warm and peaceful
Away from the bombing.
My family homeless
My brothers in the army
My sister on munitions.
And I, happy amongst strangers
Not understanding the guilt
I was feeling.
