Thoughtful, her eyes and ears
and mouth wrap around moment;
a new child's fingers traveling over
the curved skin of its mother
smells milk, soap and bread
vows to remember what cannot
be remembered. In the night,
a small wolf imitates his father,
a weak howl, a song of earth
and blood and struggle.
It too will forget his father's eyes
wordlessly shining through darkness
a secret message of pride and fear
much like stars, through pores of light,
speak to those who are dying.
No comments:
Post a Comment