Tuesday, December 21, 2010

The gray and knotted statue
stood worn down by the wind
once painted jeweled colors
on crumbled features, thinned

we've forgotten now, the stories
the stories once we lived
but that was a long, long time ago,
wasn't it, Napoleon?

now flowers bloom around the feet
that conquered, once, the world
and epitaphed in fields of wheat
memories, hibernated curled

we'll not recall you as an angel
we'll not forget you as a fool
through ages past your footfalls
didn't they, Napoleon?

No comments:

Post a Comment