Sonnet 20

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2006/12/13
Sonnet 20

As sharp, as hard, as cold as any bone,
Thin fingers trace the edges of our shame
Engraved in memory's long black wall of stone,
Descending slowly to my father's name.
I know him only from old photographs,
Their stories, his own letters, no real touch.
They say, "She sounds most like him when she laughs,"
Which says they never really listen much.
Oh Daddy! Daddy! Do you love your girl?
Can you find her name on her own war's wall?
Break through this granite.  Hold your precious pearl.
Then let there be a drying to my tears
As I walk on, walk on across the mall
With silent screaming only my heart hears.

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