Taroo Poem by D A Phinney

Nothing has changed. Nothing has changed
Since the death of young Taroo
Still they attack and still we repel
And my arrows fly still as true
History's writ in honor and blood
'Tis an alehouse pageant we sing
And for History's sake, the Taroo's, thank God,
Are few and far between

I suspect a keen knowledge sheathed behind the dull eyes
Though he were fair-haired and foolish without
But his arrows were lumber, his sword like a plow
By our judge he'd serve best in a rout
So we made him a dragger of wounded and dead
And the bearer of last request
And I o'erheard oft a failing soul
Beg a song e'er they made their rest

For he sang on the battlements morning and eve
Mid the lulls and mid the din
And the enemy counted their shafts too dear
To waste on the likes of him
And he sang of our loves and our lives and our loss
And of souls cut free too soon
And the worst would recall me the ache of a starlight
Kiss 'neath a dappled moon

And it is not meet that a warrior should pense
Over charms of a maiden or wife
Or beauty, or love, or other such dross
While engaged in this serious strife
So we showed him disdain for his cuts to the quick
And many a boot turned cruel
Still he sang as we struck and were stricken
And we called him a fool

But our Lords took note of the still in the night
When his voice held clean and pure
Till by mutual plot in a neutral hall
We claimed for war's sake a cure
And the bargain was tight among us
No one learned how his fate were sealed
Nor which man it was that would snipe him
T'was I that the straw revealed

As I crouched in the heat of the parapet
The sweat ran cold in me eye
And mayhap that my aim were not steady
I let one fly off in the sky
But e're I could breathe, I saw that a dove's
White wing interposed the arc
And though it pierced through, as the dove fell, so too
Did the arrow, and found its mark

Now the seasons of war are long and long
And the siege goes on and on
While memory's haunted by long refrains
Of the songs that were here but are gone
Someday the world may look back on war
As a ritual foolish and dim
Someday may the world celebrate the Taroos
When there's no longer need of him

But, for us, nothing changes, nothing has changed
Since the death of young Taroo
Still they attack and still we repel
And my arrows fly still as true
But I muse on our twisted bodies
Will our legacy always be ruin
Like the cities of our ancient ancestors
Whom-the legends say-walked on the Moon