Rachel

Your distant black eyes

Gaze at me

Across a century and a half

Disturbing as cannon balls.

They are twin challenges.

Dares.

Orbs of pain

Disappointment and insult.

 

But something more.

Nearly indeterminant.

Yet, it is there

As sure as your furled flag

And your forlorn hope.

 

It calls to me

As though time is the instrument

Of connection.

 

And I see you.

Your raven tresses

Like Spanish Moss

Swept back

Severe

Your part centered and as sharp

As the blade of a sword.

Where there is hurt

There once was happy.

Cinders curl in smoke

Where once was pride.

 

Was the body of a lover

Moldering in a broken

And bruised field?

Was the promise of tomorrow

Interred with bleached bones

And grapeshot?

Was your splendid home

Reduced to char

'Midst the rape of your hallowed soil?

 

Your name is lost to me

But I call you Rachel…

A name of unrequited loss

And unapprehended joy.

The children you may have had

Never knew the warmth of your womb

Or the suckle of your breast.

Your prince never knew the heat

Of your midnight embrace.

The anticipated pleasure

Of sunset of years

Were beyond your grasp.

You have followed me

Since first I saw you

As surely as an army traces

The lay of the land.

You camp nightly

Beyond the ridge of detachment

Your tents lit by the fires

Of ethereal need.

I am not a haunted man.

I never believed in spirits

Until you gazed at me

Across the chasm of melted years.