JOHN HORVATH Jr
dream not that you do the deed of the killer,
dream not the power to command that deed.
Where I lingered during lull, quiet lovers came. Beneath
the moon I saw no touch; neither spoke; they stood half nightlong
together in the field beneath the moon, I behind them
in the lull and the owl asked, "who trespasses here?" Beneath the moon,
behind them in the lull, and did not strike from a thicket
by the farmer's barn where his wife sat as I once alongside
my mother by the barn had sat. The fire of my eyes
aglow with moon so bright would frighten some. Not she.
Not that night so near her home in a wide district between
long rivers whose courses reflected the moonlight and added
to the lull when quiet lovers met but neither touched nor
spoke but stood half the night together in that unsettled
place, such a sweep of place so flat between
the rivers in a wide district near the farmer's
home where the barn alone beneath the moon
in the lull by the field stood as I those two lovers
watched, we all in unison moon watching,
seeking form from where there could be no form.
They neither touched nor spoke but stood in that
place. My promised and my enemy. I did not strike but
lingered with them in that moment. If you live to tell your
children's children, tell them what I saw, what I did and what
I did not beneath the moon in the lull that night between
the battles for that sweep of place, my home between
rivers on that night beneath the moon when
I with them that one moment compassion
or delusion knew. No, I did not strike the killer nor
dream the power to command the deed. If you live
to tell your children's children, tell them what I saw
and what I did and what I beneath the moon did
not do in the lull that night between the battles
for that sweep of place, my home. Tell them, life is such
moments possible with lull. Tell them, life is such
moments beautiful mid the wreckage of our times.
Yes. I was there. I did not strike. I loved them both.
All else is history: Battles that I fought; The armistice;
That place to which I did return; This woman
who despite the lull that night I wed. The moon.
copyright 2003 JOHN HORVATH Jr
POETRYREPAIRS 13.03: 033