History, Lost in a Statue

There is a bust of an old man
kept in an alcove in the study,
only of passing interest to visitors,
barely worth the fuss of dusting.

If asked, a version of history
could be recited: he was a striking
figure and a prominent man — the first
in the family — in the community.

His rod-straight posture is remembered,
and the arrogance of having more
than enough and nothing to prove,
power, influence and a legacy.

Lost is the story of the man, a miserable
soul with a wish unfulfilled, unrecorded
are the nightly journeys where he would go
to the paths of youth to seek the sound

of her sweet song, aloft on the wind again.

.

.

For the Sunday Whirl

Shared at Poets United

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8 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

8 responses to “History, Lost in a Statue

  1. Lately the thought of stories lost–unrecorded–have been on my mind–this piece reinvigorates this for me

  2. a story well told..and you used the whirlie words so well too:)

  3. You have to leave a legacy… …!

  4. I know not what to make of him. You make me ponder his intent and consider his character. That is good writing. Still, I know not what to make of him.

  5. Gosh, I felt the melancholy in these words this week too. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one. Well done. 🙂

  6. Mr. Windham, I bow to your acumen. A tremendously wonderful poem you’ve penned here. Excellence, Mark. Sheer excellence!

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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