My Grandfather's Picture

vineri, 11 august 2023

MY GRANDFATHER’S PICTURE
for the Unknown Soldier
A little child I was by then,
when playing  at my best,
and looking through all things to know
in drawers and in chests.

From every summer’s torrid sun
I hid of everyone
and I began to look around.
That drawer looked so fun.

I opened it; was full of things,
like: coins, war medals, photos,
and nothing else seemed more important, 
than a specific motto:

“The soldier in this picture was
not found on the death fields.
He was as we believe to be
as missing. And no shield
with name of him engraved at Don.

So we could  offer only  hons
To his beloved wife.”

A terrifying news it was,
Cold like a fever’s chills.
I looked again, with a kid’s eyes 
at picture, and could feel  
he talked to me like was alive.

“My child, he said, you are so small, 
Just soul in meat and bone 
I fought for you in war, at Don
so you could have a doll.

A bomb was falling from the sky
just when the sun was down,
and I was sharing bread of rye,
with others from town.

And they had sent a letter  home
Of sorrow and regrets,
that never will replace my words
of love left in my debts.”

I closed the drawer.
Stealthily, I left the silent room.
And in my mind the image stood 
in such a way that I can spoon
this tearing story of my kin,
and many others that like him
fought in the last World War,

The after stories do not bother 
to say that things were not made right
and sacrifices like my grandpa’s
didn’t succeed at bringing light,
as he believed, in people’s life.

To close the telling I will add
that lies replaced the dolls,
as many people afterwards
were sent to prisons walls.

And that forefathers died in vain
in the last war of wars.
Just history from time to time 
in a cold, frory lack of rhyme
reminds of them. Two words, in brief,
 The soldier: Unknown.

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