Blue

There on that grass knoll with love in you hand,

Staring up at the wide blue future,

She whispers her love, toes wet with the sea and sand,

Fingers locked in time, a suture,

The same blue angel which watched in younger years,

When mother’s voice rang from the house,

When tissues and hugs wiped away tears,

When you jumped in the morning and ran in rouse,

The same blue which heard as you were called to foreign land,

Which tore in the wake of artillery and combatting tongues,

Which cast its wind when you could not stand,

And looked back when the last breath escaped your lungs.