Rulers of the Ruins
by Fabrice Poussin
The sight may recall a photograph turned to gold
when they used to hold hands into safety
dancing a slalom to the other world
along a river flowing dark as mud
wealth beyond all dreams now free for all.
Without a care handsome in their rags
of darkened reds, blues, and greens
they now roam in the heart of this world
safe from the roaring machines of a past
known of them only in faded memories.
They leave no prints of their passage
say not a word in this dense silence
continuing to a horizon of fallen monuments
heads tilted to a thoughtful touch
perhaps they smile, perhaps they shed sorrow.
Night has fallen again on their beloved land
darkness in the midst of another august noon
a cemetery of fancy windows and shiny displays
quiet as the neon lights too have passed
where no one will share their solitude.
They glance at a fallen steeple in the distance
the home they know amongst the decayed cathedral
there to sleep under the care of deposed angels
they will lay in the broken windows of history
tales of miracles painted upon their pale features.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, The San Pedro River Review, as well as other publications.
