A poem written two years ago The White Jacket: Poem for a Forgotten War Children dance with the thread of deep spring Dealing in their hearts across the ever Frozen wasteland of the golden ring. In white light a white jacket Fades in the greyness, a bloody stair As rain begins to fall; stars fret Upon epaulets where words like birds Know nothing of the fracturing spell of the battle. Medals made of silver shine like dappled sunlight On the chest faded in beige in his dreams. The war that was in his head was the night. Brave command shaped as cloud Across the great stretch of retreating Siberia Of love unknown, bold misery like the terrible lake His Father took him high as wheat As a man must in one rattling shake. In loss he sought nameless wilds Where forgotten he spoke of a night full of stars. All buildings rise in a splendid ruin, Reappearing in forms replete without lineament Of that before time and costume, And a man stood outside the ball With a bullet tracing the comet of his body. Poem I: The Russian Civil War 1921 28/29 August 2011 Timothy Sparks
Posted on: Sat, 23 Nov 2013 08:29:22 +0000
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