Filial Piety

Poem written 6-11-24.

Gird thyself up,
Grandfather said,
For we are at war,
And you are needed

Dream a new dream,
Father said,
For I need peace,
And I can’t bear any more

What about goodness?
Asked Mother,
Can you remember,
The hymn of virtue?

But I hung on my cross,
And sang an old song,
Of brave dames and monks,
And shadowed memories

But none of those old ghosts,
For all of their restless glory,
Could sing along in earnest,
So I was left humming alone