Human entrails hang in the branches -
Arms, legs and heads stuck in trees -
The dying lost among shell holes
Hidden by clutching brambles:
That dead German, still helmeted,
Green face streaked by black-blood snot
Propped against a trunk.
Odour of death everywhere.
Mametz Wood - Peaceful now
Gentle below tall, same aged trees
Dark shadows here are now our own.
Brambles still impede the path
Where maybe boar are hidden.
Shades of deer float through the trees
Platoons of ghosts in distant foliage.
They rear pheasants here today