Crazy Thing

Poem by Fabrice Poussin

Black or blue upon unknown smiles
decades with open eyes I have seen
with old ears I have captured their sounds
those ghosts will haunt me to my last breath.

Angry with syllables they can barely utter
grimaces have scarred the faces of babes
once full of joy they played on my street
now I can only make up those cries of terror.

I wonder whether I will remember
those brothers who ran to the parks
celebrated summer and July 4th
anticipating the song of carols in winter.

A crazy thing it is to ponder the memories
we all take with us upon judgment day
I hope they will embrace the peace of heaven
those strangers I saw yet last eve under their disguises.

Poussin’s work in poetry and photography has appeared in hundreds of magazines. Most recently, his collection “In Absentia,” was published with Silver Bow Publishing.

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