sw00158p-poem19s1

Postures 2007:  #19 from Side One

"Rome, 300 A.D."


Leaves touch,
But so do fingers in these autumn years.
   Men shake each other's hand
   More tightly now.
   (I scratch my arm.)
Existing behind walls,
The rustle of an evening all too long,
The foreign yells,
The distant rumblings vaguely understood,
Cause to huddle near our fires
   Like bats.

 We do not wish to see the touching leaves
 Or hear the rustle, the yells, the rumblings,
 But just the reassuring clasp;
 The feeling that these fingernails
   Can
     Kill a rash.

[ "Rome, 300 A.D." was 
   originally published in Pursuit. ]



-------
Brian A. J. Salchert