BLACK AND WHITE
I was like the child
Who believed there was
A Santa Claus
But had never seen him,
Only
I have seen another world
And know it exists.
I used to think that
There was only one world—
A world of
Mud
And bursting shells
Which killed and wounded
Me and my pals;
A world of
Hizzing bullets
And mustard gas,
And cold, sleepless nights,
And no food for days,
And Huns who cried
“Kamerad!”
(When their ammunition was gone),
And filthy clothes,
And cooties
And cooties
And cooties.
But now I know that there is also
A world of—
Clean sheets and pajamas,
And good food
And plenty of it,
And kind, gentle women
In white
Who give you cocoa and soup,
And doctors who give you more than
“C.C.” pills,
And peaceful days
Without a single shell,
And peaceful nights,
And officers who wear white collars
And have only heard of cooties,
And visitors who sit on your bed
And murmur “How thrilling,”
And street cars and taxis,
And buildings without
A single shell hole in them,
And everything
I only dreamed of before.
Gosh! but it’s a wonderful war—
BACK HERE.
Harv.