the throne of memory

March 19, 2013 § 2 Comments

decommissioned fogbound
to a home
nonexistent except
on tattered maps
and in conversations of
those who kept
pre-deployed history
alive with abridged laughter
photos some
familiar music
seldom heard names
details of
their recent lives
no eye
could have seen the way
he moved inside or
how his addictions to
cognac corpses cordite
made him
an oak
waiting for the axe
to rape its way through
the rough shell
and when
finally exposed
the heartwood
shrank and cracked
under the heat
of judgement
and as expected
ashes took their
rightful place
on the throne
of memory

(c) 2013 Fred Whitehead


§ 2 Responses to the throne of memory

  • John Stevens says:

    A rather sombre thought here, but appropriately so. Maybe there’s a sense of mourning on behalf of someone – or apprehension on one’s own behalf? At the close there’s that shift from the oak under the axe to the final ashes – a neat finale.

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