The
aging men sit
Their
eyes dance not
Apathy
has caked their vision
Here
& there an aborted glimmer
Nostalgia
flickers
Fades
The
present interrupts / the future interferes
The
picture is there
The
focus is gone.
The
aging men talk
Words
without wings
Without
feet
Empty
sounds struggle to rise
Fail
and fall
Flashes
of pomp
&
pretense
Invisible
banter in an exchange of pain
Mechanical
tongues in a dialogue of death.
These
aging men
Who
sit in shadow
&
talk in silence
Who
stand in flight
&
laugh in fear
They
have seen the blueprint
But
have refused to build –
They
have seen the battle
But
have refused to fight.