A long time ago
You were a father.
Twirling girl in the air
Her skirt, white, fluttering—
With her laughter.
A long time ago
You were a sinner.
You were perfect.
The gold in your hair matched your golden fingers
You touched, and all was perfect.
Now you stand,
Yelling, not yelling,
Silent, heeding attention,
Your eyes have burnt like molten gold beneath your locks
And you’ve thrown your body into the storm,
Into the war, into the revolution
Just like any other soldier, fighter, comrade,
Warrior professional.
A long time ago
A father played with his pretty wife
And dreamt of his little daughter riding his shoulders
A long time ago
You laid down your reckless head
In a Christlike lap, in the Virgin Mary of your wife’s love
I watch you lay down your reckless head
In the field
Grey, sodden, trampled with bootprints
And you stand,
Yelling, not yelling,
Silent, heeding attention,
Everything cast upon by your eyes
Burns like molten gold.