Behind the Screens
by Joy Westren
Meticulously
I dress your wound
knowing you cannot live . . .
In ten swift rivers
from my finger-tips
Compassion runs
into your pale body
that is so hurt
it is no more
than the keeper
of your being.
Behind these screens,
soldier,
we two are steeped
in a peace deeper
than life gives,
you with closed eyes
and I moving quietly
as though you could wake,
all my sense aware
that your other self
is here,
waiting to begin
life without end.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Behind the Screens
Dennis Butts has an essay, Seeking an Oasis in the Spring edition of Slightly Foxed. He references a poem by a nurse from among the Oasis collection of World War II poetry:
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