aka sonnet number two
by me
Experience, more than age, made a man
Of the boy in blue. Sickness brought him down
To childhood; helpless on his own to stand,
I heard him whimper as the hands came 'round
His back, and pulled him up onto his feet.
I watched a moment as they helped him walk,
Then turned to my work, tongue held in my teeth
To forget my own pain. I almost caught
Myself forgetting his, but I can see
Him if I close my eyes: little boy blue
With shoulders shrinking down in pain, as he
Fights to stand, to breathe, to be someone who
Can do the thing himself, as if to prove
He is a man, not just a boy in blue.
Experience, more than age, made a man
Of the boy in blue. Sickness brought him down
To childhood; helpless on his own to stand,
I heard him whimper as the hands came 'round
His back, and pulled him up onto his feet.
I watched a moment as they helped him walk,
Then turned to my work, tongue held in my teeth
To forget my own pain. I almost caught
Myself forgetting his, but I can see
Him if I close my eyes: little boy blue
With shoulders shrinking down in pain, as he
Fights to stand, to breathe, to be someone who
Can do the thing himself, as if to prove
He is a man, not just a boy in blue.
No comments:
Post a Comment