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Once Again We Must Ponder More Busted Statues
Twenty-five years of war and watchfulness
Along this sick little road through Bamiyan
And only then did
Some little someone with a book and a bomb
blast away those tall figures,
Returning them to rock
in a flicker of rust,
in that thick cloud of dust billowing out from the mountain.
Time can pass that quickly:
years spent building a shadow from the sun,
some few seconds of clamor and victory
easing the iconic back toward the incorporeal;
a little peace after so many years of standing firm,
the funny way things can sometimes work out in the end.
(Ponder, Darling, These Busted Statues – e.e. cummings)
Domestic
Something for them
And something for the neighbors.
A few words about dinner
And a flying telephone.
Outside, by the curb,
She giggled, covered her mouth,
Watched a cat chase a dragonfly
(Likes it when the sky disappears behind houses).
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