STONE-BLIND

STONE-BLIND

Dedicated to Theresa Williams and Kurt Vonnegut


The shadow of the graves are stone-blind.
They ignore the beauty of the sleeping grass,
taking a sun bath late August.

Death has no eyes, explains a buried bayonet,
in this earth of hidden treasures:
sugar, coffee, tea, shrapnel, helmets, grenades,
gas masks for the mantle piece.

Death has no eyes but sees you anyway,
sings a finch. Remember «POO-TEE-WEET?»
Is war a form of aviculture? I asked the bird.
War is a fluffy bagatelle, the grass answered,
except for those who fight it,
except for those who die and yes
the shadow of the graves are stone-blind.



Guido Vermeulen
12 November 2011