The Messages, Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
Read by Xe Sands
Hmm…I seem to be on a war poetry kick at present. For some reason, the timeless themes of incomprehensible and reprehensible loss specific to war has been resonating with me lately, even while my news consumption has been shamefully lacking. But there is something there that calls, something that only poetry and visual depiction seem to be able to get at, at least for me. It’s haunting, and visceral, and tragic.
Behind the Veil, by Wayne Gatfield