(Between Broome and Port Hedland)
I saw three crosses in the dunes
Of driftwood, rough and brown,
And one leaned East, and one leaned West
And one had tumbled down.
One had a name cut with a knife,
The other two were bare;
Unless that name were written false
No lies at all were there—
No virtues posthumously hewed
Though hitherto ignored;
Stark humble as the Holy Rood
Was each unlettered board;
No promises to meet again,
Nor hints of future bliss—
Yet, as I set them plumb, I thought,
“There’s not much now amiss!”
(Peter Hopegood)
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Based on Topics: Mind Poems, Name Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Future PoemsBased on Keywords: unlettered, broome, posthumously