The Mother's Final Moments
Ever wondered what it's like for parents when their children go off to war? Weir captures this heart-wrenching experience through the eyes of a mother preparing her son for departure. The poem opens three days before Armistice Sunday, immediately linking personal loss with national remembrance.
The mother performs simple, domestic tasks - pinning a poppy to his lapel, removing cat hairs, smoothing his collar. These tactile moments represent her final acts of care. She desperately wants to maintain their close bond, remembering when they used to "play at being Eskimos" when he was little.
The yellow bias binding on his blazer symbolises how the government uses propaganda to glorify war and hide its brutal reality. Meanwhile, her words become "flattened, rolled, turned into felt" - she's so overwhelmed with emotion she can barely speak.
Key insight: The contrast between tender maternal care and the harsh reality of war creates the poem's emotional power.
When her son leaves, he's described as "intoxicated" by the world's opportunities. This suggests he's been influenced by patriotic propaganda, seeing war as exciting rather than dangerous. The mother then releases a songbird from its cage, symbolising both freedom and loss.