Tapestry of Villanelles

BLACK GRANITE WALL

Can't you feel the breath?
of all the soldiers living and dead.
for pray tell, some of the living are in death,
as surely as their life blood was drained and bled.

Do you not see the vacant stares?
The spirit sucked from their life force,
do you ask about them and their heirs,
can't you feel the heavy remorse?

Can you feel the spirit?
of loved ones living and dead.
Some cut down early in life,
now exquisite,
others left to carry on like thoroughbreds.

Touch it, touch it, the thready pulse of many,
olympian raspy sighs, ragged sobs, broken hearts,
sweet revenge,
blood-red gaping wounds crusted over, in painful agony.
Touch it, touch it, no longer a need to avenge.

A young son, daughter, dad, or mom, a conscript,
bloodied by battle of war and life, but no more.
In dark reaches of night, they march past my memory
door on the flagship,
a symphony of voices, of our loved ones we
cannot ignore.