War Photographer by Carol Ann Duffy

1. War Photographer byCarol Ann Duffy In his darkroom he is finally alonewith spools of suffering set out in ordered rows.

2. 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.

3. War Photographer byCarol Ann Duffy Belfast. Beirut. Phnom Penh. All flesh is grass.

4. 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. ...imagery...word choice...assonance...minor sentences...connotation

5. 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 don't explode beneath the feetof running children in a nightmareheat. ...imagery...word choice...assonance...minor sentences...connotation

6. Something is happening. A stranger's featuresfaintly start to twist before his eyes,a half-formed ghost. He remembers the criesof this man's wife, how he sought approvalwithout words to do what someone mustand how the blood stained into foreign dust. ...imagery...word choice...assonance...minor sentences...connotation

7. A hundred agonies in black-and-whitefrom which his editor will pick out five or sixfor Sunday's supplement. The reader'seyeballs prickwith tearsbetween bath and pre-lunch beers.From aeroplane he stares impassively at wherehe earns a living and they do not care. ...imagery...word choice...assonance...minor sentences...connotation

8. 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 don't explode beneath the feetof running children in a nightmare heat. Something is happening. A stranger's featuresfaintly start to twist before his eyes,a half-formed ghost. He remembers the criesof this man's 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 Sunday's supplement. The reader's 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

9. METAPHOR: All flesh is grass. Think of the connotations: • grass is everywhere • it self-seeds • we walk all over it • it can be cut (mown) down • It is an insignificant plant 1 Peter 1:24 For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away:25 But the word of the Lord endureth for ever. And this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto you.