The Courier - Richard Shindell

I am a courier

Crawling in the dirt

Toward the front line

As the crow flies

A note stashed in my shirt

From the Prince of Wales

Far above the field

With his marshalls

And their chain-mail

Their banners taut and high

I did not ask him what the note said

He did not offer to explain

It’s not my job to ask the questions

I’m just the courier

A flare shot leaves a scar

Burning in the dark

On my forearms

Toward the front line

Then another fifty yards

Crouching in the trench

Clutching bayonettes

A hundred men

All knee-to-chest

A hundred marionettes

I am the string pulled by the sure hand

Animating what was still

I am invisible and faithful

I am a courier

The Captain breaks the seal

And quickly reads the note

On your feet boys

Make you peace boys

Pass those letters down

To this courier

Guardian of the word

Hand him all you’ve seen

Hand him all you’ve heard

Hand him all your pearls

And he’ll go back to where he came from

He will deliver each by hand

He takes this as a point of honor

To be a courier