© 2011 Donald Lee Pardue, Flickr | CC-BY | via Wylio I don’t know much
When I sit among the statues,
Hold
my voice just as they do,
With a poise that can’t be touched.
What
can I say
To the bronze that stand in silence?
Yet
their eyes reveal a guidance
That belonged to yesterday.
Evening
grows cold.
At once, your shadow brushes mine—
Your
war-scarred past; my perfect life,
And all the stories you never told.
Tell
me to stay.
Teach me love and pain and meaning—
Things
not stored in rooms of reading—
So I can live the life you gave.
I
cannot fill
The height and width of your shadow;
I
promise I’ll be back, though,
To stand with you again.
Copyright © 2015 by Ashley Williams |
Monday, February 23, 2015
Statue of a Soldier
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