A Year of Poems – Day 336

We have the strength that once filled iron lungs
and sang the final war cries of their fears
in songs that touched the tenor of the tongue
until the strings trilled, buzzing through the years
like the taut, drawn, clothesline where truth once hung;
but now we only feel it in the tears
that touch the sea of old where floating biers
are the only echoes of the music sung.
Let us drink from the trickling stream of song
While fingers scrabble at those damming rocks
Or at the least let the cool water run
Through our hair, wetting our socks
For strength wasn’t in the metal or the stone
But in the love which rippled as it shone.


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