At his farm in Austria, nearing close
of this life, he reflects on their faces
and hands, their reactions each time he chose
his actions: Erika’s fumbling laces,
hearing his offer to marry; Chester’s
flex and flush -- response to kissed fingertips;
Carson’s smile at him playing the jester;
Benjamin’s flinches to his manuscript
critiques. This week he’ll train to Vienna,
perhaps visit Christ Church and the Schönbrunn,
read to the Austrian Society. When
that’s done, he’ll welcome sleep. His mind wanders
back to New York, his move there at start of war,
rejecting that poem he penned in the bar.
Roger Armbrust
May 20, 2016
