The couple, lovely.
Brown-hued he adorned as army’s finest;
soon to go to war at his country’s request.
And she, fair of face,
by grace, pledged to wait ‘til, she pray, he, safe, come again.
Yet whilst the camera said, “Smile”
each, rather, gazed back straight-forward
with hopeful eye,
with countenance steady, faithful;
and, unseen, with hands held close and hearts nearer still
imagining alway, but entertaining ne’er the thought: What if?
With all their questions
I wonder whether they imagined me;
and when I came, did they see
in my face their reflections?
And did they imagine what…who I would be?
Ev’ry day, I look and, in them, I see
Ev’ry day, I look and, the memory depending,
sometimes I laugh,
more times, I cry,
mostly though, now,
with wounds bandaged by time’s passing,