It's Still Life

A Widow to His Wildfire

He was wildfire devoured
By the dry ribs of summer,
And he slipped into eternity,
That long legionous march .

His wife became widow’s wear;
Told to be strong, to keep her faith.

But her loss widened. Widening
Into circles upon gone. His fruit
Fallen to ground, and she’s still
Proud as the gold setting sun.

She sleeps with his scent, with his
Pillow. His voice lives in her sleep,

But she’s a lone turret, a beacon
Sharp as war’s keel, and she
Stands drowning in his ripples,
Lost in a bereaved seminal fog.

Class Assignment 4:
Professor Folsom of University of Iowa noted in the video discussion that Whitman encountered many soldiers who, even in the silence of a peaceful night, still heard the noises of Civil War Battlefields, sounds and sensations that never left them. These reverberations crept into the silence of each night, making those spaces unbearably loud. What are the unseen remnants of our modern conflicts and traumas? What losses or absences do you or do we continue to sense from things that are no longer present? In words or images, compose a piece that explores the “phantom limbs” of a trauma or traumas.

Photo is from “Artillery and Medical officers at rest, Gallipoli” – left to right S. Boscawen, Colonel G N Johnston (born in Canada) Dr W Fyffe, J MacDonald Richmond far right unidentified. This image is from a selection of records relating to Captain Walter Lancelot Moore who served with the Field Artillery Brigade of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force from 1914 to 1918. Series 25268 consists of 2 items that record Captain Moore’s active service from leaving New Zealand in late 1914, action at Gallipoli and subsequent service on the Western Front.