Richard Shindell - The Courier

I am a courier 


Crawling in the dirt 


Toward the front line 


As the crow flies 


A note stashed in my shirt 


From the Prince of Wales 


Far above the field 


With his marshalls 


And their chain-mail 


Their banners taut and high 





I did not ask him what the note said 


He did not offer to explain 


It’s not my job to ask the questions 


I’m just the courier 





A flare shot leaves a scar 


Burning in the dark 


On my forearms 


Toward the front line 


Then another fifty yards 


Crouching in the trench 


Clutching bayonettes 


A hundred men 


All knee-to-chest 


A hundred marionettes 





I am the string pulled by the sure hand 


Animating what was still 


I am invisible and faithful 


I am a courier 





The Captain breaks the seal 


And quickly reads the note 


On your feet boys 


Make you peace boys 


Pass those letters down 


To this courier 


Guardian of the word 


Hand him all you’ve seen 


Hand him all you’ve heard 


Hand him all your pearls 





And he’ll go back to where he came from 


He will deliver each by hand 


He takes this as a point of honor 


To be a courier 






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