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Poetry Magnum Opus

After the War

Terry A

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There is one branch left.  Will it
survive the pruning?  Better chance
away from crushing weight of
Ideals wielding heaven and hell
like a scythe looking for heads.

What could I ever have said? When silenced
from the beginning.    Even now
just a field mouse squeaking
scurrying through the dry grasses of winter
looking for water.       The young
don’t have the memories.   They will
frolic uninhibited in air cleansed so meticulously 
by the suffering,
the burning off.  They will not remember
so many things
              and be glad of it.


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Footnote: This poem inspired by conversing with a number of 20-30 year olds after realizing that few knew or cared about who JFK was.

And David, shoo me to workshop anytime.  

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David W. Parsley

Chuckle, I'm afraid I may be acquiring a "reputation"!  I like this one, Terry.  Interesting footnote, I would not have made the connection to JFK, particularly, but the more general sense of forgotten lessons, positive and otherwise, is compelling.  We do not always prune wisely.  It hurts more for the person attempting to guide the process.  We are seldom heard.

 - David

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Hi David, I just referenced JFK in the footnote because he came up in conversation and I felt compelled to give the poem some reference. From your comments, I didn't have to.  Time marked, I suppose, is different for every generation. Soon, there won't be any WW2 veterans still alive, then only media if reaches any, will mark it historically as significant. I read that China has removed mention of Tiananmen Square (1989) from any history books......rewriting history, as so much has been done, will be done. And successive generations deprived of what it should tell them, not even aware as to why they should care.  

Almost every writer benefits from an informed critic, one who knows the difference between bad poetry, good poetry, great poetry. You do.  Thanks.

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