Nothing, nil, nought

The air seemed thin, cut with a knife
The night sky much the same
Like a London winter closing in on frozen
Like icicles on a lake

She reached out to touch that sky
But all she could feel was war
Nothing else to reach for
Nothing worth fighting for

That night told her nothing
Aware of no-one, nil and nought
No phone-call, letter or door-bell ring
While young ones sacrificed and fought.

The war reigned on, her young one quiet
She could envision distant fear
A cherished remembrance on a darkened night
Whispering sweet nothings in her ear

Was it his voice that she could hear?
Love’s murmur on a frozen night
A breathless recollection
As she turned out the light.

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