A Poem by Derek Walcott
Somewhere a white horse gallops with its mane
plunging round a field whose sticks
are ringed with barbed wire, and men
break stones or bind straw into
women tire of the shawled sea’s
weeping, for the fishermen’s
still go out. It is blue as peace.
Somewhere they’re tired of torture stories.
Highlight in yellow these words in
the text. What do you think they
Ricks-something that is stacked
Comrade- a friend
Mattress Ticking- the cloth of
Massacres- brutally killing of
That somewhere there was an arrest.
Somewhere there was a small harvest
of bodies in the truck. Soldiers rest
somewhere by a road, or smoke in a forest.
Somewhere there is the conference rage
at an outrage. Somewhere a page
is torn out, and somehow the foliage
no longer looks like leaves but camouflage.