On The 100th Anniversary Of The Death Of Abraham Lincoln* Poem by Donna Ialongo

a man, complex in his simplicity has gone
unnoticed. his eyes touhed us like
a feather burnt too soon by the ice
of hate. his mouth too often breathed
words not known or too soon for our
closed ears. his work has been the
labor in tears of one-hundred years.
his love has been inhaled by the prisoned
free and exhaled thru their endless
walk to truth. his humbled hands once
held a world swiftly kissed by his
blushing mouth. his heart once
beat to the thumping rhythm of war
and now it beats in sorrowing peace
with mine. today no one remembered,
but god gave him a quiet tribute - a
century of years have folded one inside
the other, but today, suddenly in the rain,
on every reborn tree, there was a bud.

(April 14,1965)