I remember you on the bus holding
roses in prickled stems for
your girl who was already changing
Out of work you walked with a
military carriage
The war museum trip-turned-lecture
on the sleek messerschmitt and the
stout lancaster bomber, let your
soul roll and catch fire
Yet empty sidewalks constantly
passed over began to whisper
a meeting who could hear but you
Alone you were not a stranger
to the brave man you must have
seen, sitting between the tracks
Gathered pieces that join
in the filing past of steamy breath
from the single stamp of boots
in the uniform twill of olive green
that comes in mid november
Now so do you
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