Et cum spiritu tuo
The battles fought, the whiskies drained, the spirits
Command the day that comes, some dreamer’s dram
To celebrate the First of Advent’s billets.
With joy’s anticipation, bob the tam
And strike the colors! Marshal Haig is marching
Across the field of battle, razing, torching,
Besieging taste with texture on the tongue.
This thirdling ounce engages old and young
And makes each tender-footed Yank a hero –
How else explain the velvet smoke and peat
Awash across a mountainside replete
With heath and history. From hayrick’s harrow
The Haig provides us easy means to wait
For Corporal Christ in swaddled epaulette.