Diptych

Diptych

At Spandau

In a fortress built to hold six hundred men,
I, the only inmate, am awakened

at six a.m., clean my cell and walk
a solitary path

through the wooded grounds.
Who am I? What did I do wrong?

The men who guard me do not speak.
All news of world events

is cut from what I hear and read.
For forty years, I've lived in suspense

for history. Once a month
Ilse comes. We're not permitted touch.

At dusk, my spectacles
are taken from me and I sleep.

Even my dreams are guarded. The wind
in the cedars sounds like the sea.

In a fortress built to hold six hundred men,
I, the only inmate, am awakened

at six a.m., clean my cell and walk
a solitary path
through the wooded grounds.
Who am I? What did I do wrong?

The men who guard me do not speak.
Ilse comes. We speak through glass.

At dusk, my spectacles
are taken from me and I sleep.

Tomorrow is Today

The time has come when silence is betrayal
said Martin Luther King. He paid his dues.
And was his martyrdom to no avail?

The annual Martin Luther King Day sale,
the schools we named for him, the big to do's?
There comes a time when honor is betrayal.

Whoever wins, it is the rich prevail,
in Nam and here at home, the poor who lose,
and is their sacrifice to no avail?

Said Martin Luther King, whose words we hail
from helipads in Babylon. Vast views
of ruins in ruin recall an old betrayal.

He stood with Jesse Jackson at the rail
Touching his death, and certain troubling clues,
the truth came out in court to what avail?

Blue plastics maim, the blades of Hueys flail.
Good people lip-synch in their Sunday pews.
There comes a time conformity's betrayal.

The tears that fell behind Coretta's veil,
the photos viewed in silence on the news
Is their martyrdom to no avail?
There comes a time when silence is betrayal.