Poetic Divination | Cramped in that Funnelled Hole

“Cramped in that Funnelled Hole”

by Wilfred Owen

Cramped in that funnelled hole, they watched the dawn

Open a jagged rim around; a yawn

Of death’s jaws, which had all but swallowed them

Stuck in the bottom of his throat of phlegm.

They were in one of many mouths of Hell

Not seen of seers in visions, only felt

As teeth of traps; when bones and the dead are smelt

Under the mud where long ago they fell

Mixed with the sour sharp odour of the shell.