A Memory of Heaven (for Pietro)

[✿´¯`*•.Art of Poetry.•*´¯`✿-]

A brief note...As I have been going through the family photo archives I realize that the old black and white photos capture more poetry unintentionally than any technicolor attempt at Art. In fact I believe Art that doesn't have accidental elements in it is mere fabrication.This is a poem inspired by this photo of my grandfather.

 

                         A Memory of Heaven (for Pietro)

 

    Coal mines and vinegar factories

    Could not darken or make bitter

    The heart of Pietro

 

     I only saw him angry once

     The day he caught me drowning ants

     God bless the man who couldn't hurt a flea

     God bless the calloused hand

     That held mine as we crossed the street

 

     The man who couldn't drive a car

     But could carve propellers out of wood

     (So we could see the wind)

     The man with Heaven in his blood

     The least of men in a hateblind world

     Didn't have to go to Heaven when he died

     He was there all along

     

    

     

 

 

[2i3zz31iz74ww]

Thanks riggwelter. The thing about the accompanying photo that affects me the most are my grandfathers hands. I still remember them as vividly as anything I've ever remembered.  marK