Zeppelins

I saw the people climbing up the street

Maddened with war and strength and thoughts to kill;

And after followed Death, who held with skill

His torn rags royally, and stamped his feet.

The fires flamed up and burnt the serried town,

Most where the sadder, poorer houses were;

Death followed with proud feet and smiling stare,

And the mad crowds ran madly up and down.

And many died and hid in unfounded places

In the black ruins of the frenzied night;

And death still followed in his surplice, white

And streaked in imitation of their faces.

But in the morning men began again

To mock Death following in bitter pain.

Cunard was born into the British upper class yet rejected her family's values. She moved to Paris where she was associated with the Surrealist movement. After a relationship with an African-American jazz musician, she moved to the US and became an anti-fascist campaigner. Her commitment to the cause was a permanent intellectual dedication and she became an impassioned advocate for civil and political liberties. She also worked as a translator for the French Resistance in World War II. This is a potent, mournful poem about the terror on the home front in World War I.

Holly Smith