Emmanuel George Cefai

Gold Star - 10,721 Points (12th March 1955 / Victoria, Gozo)

The Fugue Of Us, Ah! It Remains - Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The fugue of us, ah! it remains
so cold!

the fugue arises slow like a morbid

the fugue detaches us from town and

and sings its lonely veil of black

no wonder, no wonder, it rises though

feeds on my blood, that was sad blood,

the fugue, the morbid fugue, that now

what with my father's birth began
about ninety years ago

for to-day my father, my poor father
would be round ninety

and with that fugue ends all us, father
mother son

the fugue of the extinct, where hope is knifed.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 19, 2013

Poem Edited: Saturday, October 19, 2013

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