After The Old Masters Poem by Leo Yankevich

After The Old Masters

Rating: 3.2


The father looks up to the sky or ceiling
(beyond the grey scale of the photograph)
with his son wrapped inside his cradling arms.
An orderly obscures the boy’s midsection,
with silence says he is beyond all healing.
Outside the frame in colour copter strafe
restokes the ire of Taliban gendarmes
who soothe the mother twisted in dejection.
We do not catch a whiff of her pained retching,
catch sight of their clenched fists or hear their words.
We see the father’s sorrow-stricken eyes
in what could almost be a Rembrandt etching,
his pitch black pupils focused heavenwards
to where God’s justice or His mercy lies.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Cat Tiger 09 July 2009

Such an ironic title. Too real and immediate a scene. Devastating.

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Leo Yankevich

Leo Yankevich

Farrell, Pennsylvania
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