A Morning in Concepcion

The Colonel's on his terrace
With a cafe blanco in his hand.
The air is warm this morning,
And he gazes at the tranquil
Sea. His two grandchildren
Dash about. They can't sit
Still, but that's okay. One spies
An insect on a flower, cries out,
“Wasp! Oh, Grandpa, kill it.”
In response, the other smiles,
“Grandpa couldn't kill a thing.”
A seagull screams. A vision
Comes: his rifle swings and
Bullets from it cut down men
Who also scream. The Colonel,
Shaken, feels a chill. He doesn't
Speak, but tells himself he knows
That Grandpa could.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 54 times
Written on 2016-12-28 at 18:28

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Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
Wow ... this is really very strong in so many different ways, and so well written. I like this very much.
Ashe
2016-12-30


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo, Lawrence.
Ken :) ;)
2016-12-29


Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
I agree, this is powerful. I never understand what makes killing right in certain situations. I just finished watching a documentary about Lee Marvin. A man who's life was forever changed by his war experience. This is an excellent piece.
2016-12-29


Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Extremely powerful poem.
2016-12-29


alarian The PoetBay support member heart!
who has said that grandparents and children are impotent?
2016-12-28