Christmas, 1914.
Across a bloody field known as ‘Flanders’,
A previously suggested truce arose, now unofficial.
Germany started to sing for a “Silent, Holy Night.”
England joined in, like hesitant meerkats.
Bewildered generals disapproved.

Wooden signs with cheerful phrases,
Stapled to muddy banks of trenches.
As carols grew stronger, louder, merrier,
Both sides set down their weapons, with shaky hands.
Arms were waved in a reassuring gesture.

Germany, and England as well, climbed out of cramped trenches to meet halfway.
Bearing handshakes and common, yet precious gifts.
Enemies conversed and played soccer.
Knowing, the very next day,
Both sides would forcibly pull the trigger, yet again.