I Cannot Speak of War
by Pat Harvey
I can only speak of soldiers: captured
in nearly a century of photographs.
Old eyes in young faces who wear
integrity as easily as their crisp
dress blues and browns.
I can speak of my grandfather: the doughboy
learning a bit of the old parlez-vous
with gay mademoiselles baring
frantic smiles and foxholed nights
when the chauchaut rifle was useless.
You can read the rest of the poem here.
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At Wild Rose Reader, I have an original fairy tale poem titled The Giant’s Magic Harp Sings.
I’m doing the Poetry Friday Roundup at Wild Rose Reader today.
3 comments:
Thanks for posting this, Elaine. I've been in a blue funk, too.
When will we ever learn??? My heart goes out to all the military and their families.
When indeed.
Sigh...
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