in a home for the aged
The day is gentle,
clair et doux;
aged inmates pass
with walking frames
or with the compromised,
arthritic gait
one sees in nursing homes.
Above your bed,
yourself when young
in civvies and in uniform,
black hair and brows,
those eyes to die for -
leprechaun, Nijinsky's faun -
captured by a faithful lens
whose muse was youth
and innocence.
The irony is lost on you,
old soldier moaning for release,
your wasted, horizontal form
surmounted by the vertical
portraits of you, semper liber,
always on your feet...
It would take more than these
bright poppies in my hands,
to bring you peace.
for V.V., 11.11.08
Armistice Day Visit
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108121001391
Свидетельство о публикации №108121001391
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