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 MY POETRY 205-THE RELENTLESS DAY  
    87500 Poems Read.

Cala

          Cala walked the wastelands
          collecting sticks and odds and ends;
          A quiet lonely man in a quiet lonely place
          in a great-coat from the army
          and ragged battle dress.
          Cala slept in closes and sat upon the steps
          rubbed cold hands by the big fire
          while he fought his war again
          and how we made a fool of him
          in our stupid childish ways
          not knowing that the Colour Sergeant
          had fought that war for us.    

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