Came upon this posting on facebook.
It's an elegy to a fallen air force officer,
a woman.
A nice piece of writing ...
definitely a feminine hand.
________________
GROW
And whose hands first painted
this pool blue,
before a walled camp sprouted stacks
of metal shipping-container barracks
among the porches and grape vines
of Kabul's well-to-do,
And who imagined here
was where you would feed the
oblivious goldfish one
final time
with a smile as you walked past
flak-vested,
calm.
And is this the very same bottle of add zest
Heinz 57 sauce
you seasoned your grilled chicken with
under this sudden-colored umbrella,
and where now are the leaves
that floated in the pool then,
having lived their short lives
to fall from the branches and dance
with the suds and shadows till
they were scooped out to curl
into the forgottenness of feeding
other growing things,
pulling them to life from the soil where
their delicate veins became running trails
for the ants until disintegration?
Your going was less gentle than theirs -
but who knows
what the seed of your gift
will grow?
For Roslyn Schulte (1984-2009)
(This was posted by one Farzana Marie on facebook.
Don't know if she was the author.)
R.I.P. Lieutenant Schulte
-Fini
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