War Photographer by Carol Ann Duffy Wikispaces战争摄影师Carol Ann杜菲Wikispaces.pptVIP

In his darkroom he is finally alonewith spools of suffering set out in ordered rows. War Photographer byCarol Ann Duffy The only light is red and softly glows,as though this were a church and hea priest preparing to intone a Mass. War Photographer byCarol Ann Duffy War Photographer byCarol Ann Duffy Belfast. Beirut. Phnom Penh. All flesh is grass. In his darkroom he is finally alonewith spools of suffering set out in ordered rows.The only light is red and softly glows,as though this were a church and hea priest preparing to intone a Mass.Belfast. Beirut. Phnom Penh. All flesh is grass. He has a job to do. Solutions slop in traysbeneath his hands which did not tremble thenthough seem to now. Rural England. Home againto ordinary pain which simple weather can dispel,to fields which dont explode beneath the feetof running children in a nightmare heat.  Something is happening. A strangers featuresfaintly start to twist before his eyes,a half-formed ghost. He remembers the criesof this mans wife, how he sought approvalwithout words to do what someone mustand how the blood stained into foreign dust.  A hundred agonies in black-and-whitefrom which his editor will pick out five or sixfor Sundays supplement. The readers eyeballs prickwith tears between bath and pre-lunch beers.From aeroplane he stares impassively at wherehe earns a living and they do not care. War Photographer by Carol Ann Duffy In his darkroom he is finally alonewith spools of suffering set out in ordered rows.The only light is red and softly glows,as though this were a church and hea priest preparing to intone a Mass.Belfast. Beirut. Phnom Penh. All flesh is grass.He has a job to do. Solutions slop in traysbeneath his hands which did not tremble thenthough seem to now. Rural England. Home againto ordinary pain which simple weather can dispel,to fields which dont explode beneath the feetof running children in a nightmare heat. Something