FABIANNE GEISMAR, 15 : A DEATH IN HAITI
Shot dead for stealing mirrors.
---Headline, The Toronto Star, Catastrophe in Haiti, Jan 20, 2009, Pg. 19
While the temblor's carrion burn
in common graves unnamed,
you have a name to go by, and
will have confreres wail to mourn
your falling on brittle rubble,
mirror clutched as you would a rag doll
if you had a more innocent childhood,
if you even were a lass in pigtails
or braids or ribbons or princess veils,
and did not have to scrounge for food
or even think that a purloined mirror
is a prize too precious to die for.
O, Fabianne, would you have seen
a flushed reflection of the fairest face
this wounded city has haplessly hidden
in unforgiving debris of shattered grace?
Or would you have recoiled from scars
on scars that faces become inured to
seen through cracks of shattered mirrors?
Mississauga, January 21, 2010
Shot dead for stealing mirrors.
---Headline, The Toronto Star, Catastrophe in Haiti, Jan 20, 2009, Pg. 19
While the temblor's carrion burn
in common graves unnamed,
you have a name to go by, and
will have confreres wail to mourn
your falling on brittle rubble,
mirror clutched as you would a rag doll
if you had a more innocent childhood,
if you even were a lass in pigtails
or braids or ribbons or princess veils,
and did not have to scrounge for food
or even think that a purloined mirror
is a prize too precious to die for.
O, Fabianne, would you have seen
a flushed reflection of the fairest face
this wounded city has haplessly hidden
in unforgiving debris of shattered grace?
Or would you have recoiled from scars
on scars that faces become inured to
seen through cracks of shattered mirrors?
Mississauga, January 21, 2010
A LULLABY AT SUNDOWN
At sundown, on my hammock hour, I hum a lullaby.
And I become the magus among the cattails chanting:
O give me a home bursting with laughter and song,
O give me a nook to hide and hold quicksilver dreams.
In their crannies, I shall wrap them with sunflowers;
In icy snow chambers, I shall save slivers of sunlight
At sundown, on my hammock hour, I hum a lullaby.
And I become the magus among the cattails chanting:
O give me a home bursting with laughter and song,
O give me a nook to hide and hold quicksilver dreams.
In their crannies, I shall wrap them with sunflowers;
In icy snow chambers, I shall save slivers of sunlight
To keep them warm. I shall be the rabbit popped out
Of the magus’ cone hat, I shall jump and disappear
Into their hideaway taking the darkness with me.
In their lairs and treehouses, I shall bring dry flint
And candlesticks and all things bright and crackling;
I shall be with my wee ones and darkness be damned.
--- ALBERT B. CASUGA
Mississauga, 1-20-11
1 comment:
How beautiful! Thank you for sharing your poem, Sir Albert.
A blessed 2012!
Rose
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