Lest we forget
the way you used to smile,
like wings danced over your lips,
tickling your skin until your muscles
conceded and pulled on the
corners of your mouth,
like heaving water from a well.
Lest we forget
the way that uniform hung
from your body,
the day you were sworn in
your straight back said
‘a new man stands here’.
Lest we forget
you heels pounding to the
beat of the Highlander’s drum
and how later that night,
your smile soared,
when the band played Danny Boy
just one more time,
for you.
Lest I forget
the way your lips felt when
you pressed them against mine,
your straight back curved against me,
saying ‘more, give me more’.
Lest we forget
that our man died far from
my lips and from his home,
then visit us in the night,
scare us until we can take no more -
then I will know you’re home.
