War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

for Andrew

I knew you in this dark

Wilfred Owen, Strange Meeting

they reach for me, next-of-kin,
that I might have shadowed you;
my woodcut, blocked, inked memory
(though only crosshatched really),
brings you back, even in relief, a
mirror image, my crude blunt cuts;
my flimsy paper cannot be folded
into anything useful—a tissue, an origami crane,
a declaration of peace, or you, home again.
so tall, blond, smiling, gorgeous in CADPAT
you at WWx believed in future,
in the half-life of sunset CUBs, laughter,
eager for it, you pulled out your field book
took your orders. read your notes.


About This Page

The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled for Andrew. It was posted here on September 26, 2010.

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