Something Will Survive Poem by Joseph S. Josephides

President Charles thought some of his acts would survive
and was calling all arms of militants, able to act or cut-off*,
he used to fight off the eagle, the lion, the fox of the desert,
guarding the French flame not to be extinguished by Nazis,
always said that his young men will survive the invaders.
He deposited toil to collect a nice liberty, never minding
whether people says: brave or wise dreamers are crazy.

- De Gaulle, nothing survives: fleets, cupolas, menus, bijous;
only the grass you have planted with Ann to play with her,
to forget her Dawn Syndrome and your Syndrome of Politics.
The grass covers your tomb, where you are buried embraced,
it is carrying forward your trace through and beyond France,
as happened with the cherry, Lucullus brought from Cyprus
to Rome; ever booming everywhere, even after the city dies
with the symposia, plunders and conquests taken in Asia.
What remains is the grass planted by fair persons, in love.

-General, since Anne died she is a normal kid as the others,
even overcomes them, now she expands inside-out, as love
in her palm the tiny world is contained and can survive.



© JosephJosephides