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two poems by Raymond CavanaughWHEN NOT IN VICTORYThey heard a speech and cheered. Then with guns cleaned and loaded, They all marched off to a place Where false promises exploded.
Now the birds have gone, and in Their wake, those without a breath - Empty cages of their hollowed Skulls locked in eternal death.
But fond History keeps score Of all these glorious games! Where flags tossed in the wind That whispered for more names.
Cowards, like heroes, must one Day meet Fate's mortal call. But Heroes get their names on a wall.
THE PATIENTNestled in the corner Just her right profile in view
She darts a nervous eye To survey the office
The beauty of that profile Runs ghostlike through the room
But when her turn is called The other side is shown
A scar ripping 'cross her cheek She skirts right past the desk
I bite my lip, confounded, Awaiting her return
When she leaves the meeting The moment comes at last
Looking up with caution Across her face I see mankind |
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