Back From Malaya … And they waited … The old ones laughing And telling of remembered battles And the activation Of mock taiaha fights. And the women and children Hurrying to and fro From hangi pit to shed— And the long trestle tables Laden with jellies, puddings Cutlery and plates— And the parents bursting With pride And the sisters giggling And wondering ‘What Malayan women …?’ And the brothers silent And pondering … On the youngest of them all Having crossed the great ocean To battle … And they waited … Whilst the bright summery day Grew old … And died … And a youth came quietly From the darkness With his father behind him And stood, part revealed By the lamplight And he was home … And the elders spoke to him Each one wrapt in his own Remembered glories … Likening the battles of this Young one To the battles of old days When they had fought … And the tears In the young one's eyes, dried And he stood there Still in his soldier's garb Wondering … Had he really come home And who were these people Crowded here In this space Who were these strangers Who cared more for their own memories Than for he Who wished now, only to rest … And the speeches over he sat … And he was stranger to me This cousin of mine With the tense, thin body Turning ever, To twitch At the shadow looming large At his back …