Rhine waters has no end unlike
these tiny foreground
figures who reach and
stretch to accomplish their
small tasks, muscles straining,
A few feet from this Turner is one of Manet’s
oils of the shooting squad execution of
fake Mexican Emperor Maximilian, a
fool if there ever was one, but
aren’t we all
end in the
coup de grace?
What, though, is the alternative?
The urgency, as Brooks says, is in
amid the noise
of the flood.
by the same cataract,
slain by the same
bullet. You and me and
Patrick T. Reardon
This poem was originally published in Requiem for David from Silver Birch Press in February, 2017.