She did not know her spouse had signed up for a vacation.
He was going to France...
She was devastated.
No longer could she share a dance with him, or even down a drink.

She lies on her bed, bawling.
Crack! Bang!
She could hear the voices of war, shouting angrily, as if she were there.
She could hear the painful cries of the dying boys.

She could almost hear the bullet laugh as it buried itself in him.
“We regret to inform you...”
Her body is overcome by grief.
Her moment of disbelief is regrettably short.

Surely the telegram was sent to the wrong address...surely.
Perhaps there was another man bearing his name her neighbourhood?
She wishes she could tell herself these things.
But she knows the letter speaks the truth.

Ages later, after the advent of the Second Great War,
she she smiles, and remembers the time they shared.
And she joins him in peace.