Saturday, June 6, 2015

6734. WHEN THE HEART LAST LEFT A MESSAGE

WHEN THE HEART 
LAST LEFT A MESSAGE
At some point, sometimes, I think it's just
like no one cares. The grass grows high 
between the trees, where no one walks,
I guess, even though you'd think that would
be where they walked, if anyone walked.
That gets confusing, and all these weeds
anyway make a mess.
-
And then I walked away, singing a Yankee tune,
'Love's lass gone a courtin'  -  someone told me
that was a favorite of Civil War guys tromping
through the fields.  Yeah, I guess. But then, 
not so many years later, Custer  -  who was a
Civil War guy too  -  he led all those guys to their
Indian death insisting upon some other tune, to
be played over and over  - Garryowen it was called,
or, alternately, 'Of Garry Owen in Glory'. It was
an old Irish Drinking Song. I wouldn't have minded.
-
I had a picture, back then, in my wallet, some scratchy
daguerreotype I had taken in New York City  -  you sat
for it  -  and that powder-shot flash thing went off,
 remember? I always liked it. Funny too, now there's
a bullet hole right through it. I didn't get hurt much, 
though I was shot. I'm betting maybe you saved me.

No comments: