Farewell To Westphalia Poem by Neil Crawford
Farewell To Westphalia
We watched the smoke grey heron rise above the frozen lake,
your son in law, his thoughts on war, walked his son
at the water's edge.
His other boy, at the 'me, me' stage wobbled on his garish bike
while you and I, well wrapped, found safer footing
on a wettish slope.
People strolled, people jogged, people walked their German dogs,
oblivious to approaching wrath
whispering at the heron's wing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 10:43:05 PM # 1.0.0.1119
