"Houses at Night" - acrylic, 18" by 18", NFS

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Veterans' Day Tableaux - 1953

A family relaxes in the living room
On a warm, light-filled night.
Father, Mother, two boys and a girl.

Reaching for the red transistor radio
On the end table, the bigger boy is about to change the station.
Father twists in his chair to switch on the brass lamp.
A newspaper falls from his lap to the rug.

A stranger lets himself in, stops in the doorway.
Everyone looks startled. The family takes in
His rumpled clothes, clean-shaven face, eyes wild.

Father springs from his chair, moves toward the man,
Says, What do you want?
The man stammers, They're shooting at me. I gotta hide.
Father says, It's okay, buddy. I'll take you where it's safe.

At the dining room window, children and Mother tip forward,
Almost touch the glass. The youngest rests his chin on the sill.
They watch Father, Virgil to this Dante driven mad by his journey,
Guide him toward their '49 Chevy.

Father returns. Says, I took him back to the VA.
He rode the entire way crouched under the dashboard.
Poor bastard.


Published in Sahara: A Journal of New England Poetry, Summer 2002.