THE SIGNALLER’S VISION

One rainy winter dusk Mending a parted cable, Sudden I saw so clear Home and the tea-table. So clear it was, so sweet, I did not start, but drew The breath of deep content Some minutes ere I knew My Mother’s face that’s soother Than autumn half-lights kind, My softly smiling sisters Who keep me still in mind, Were but a dream, a vision— That faded. And I knew The smell of trench, trench-feeling— And turned to work anew.