You looked away
as the men marched
ten by ten-fold strong through
snaking city passages
uncovered feet lining
the cobbled, well-worn stone.
Your eyes averted then
to crying children
I wondered if you knew.
We understood
that when the rain fell
in sheeted scores across, across
pushing hollow aside and cleansing memory
we might face the windowed paintings
their vivid, painful beauty.
You’d see, you said.
I remember this.
And even still
your taught, seized neck
aside turned
that colors do not find reflection
in the lead-paned glass.
You’re missing fireworks
brilliances erupting on display.
Will you return?
Will you notice?
Let us renew locked elbows
and forward in stride
pound messages to the ground.
Raise those whose down-turned chins
are weighted.
Fly through spillways
and down waterfalls.
Take your merry men.
Bring them henceforth
and be whole again.