'Til The Statues Stoop to Touch

by Frank Cavano

'Til the statues stoop to touch
Shivering shoulders –
Sudden soldiers
And brown-shoed regulars to pain
Pray with parched throats
And whitened tongues
Words that stick in the turbid air
And fall
Unheeded
At the boots
Of the army of men.

Waiting for the source and the spirit
Knees knuckle down
In desperate posture.
Pat-a-caked hands
Implore beads and benedictions
As absent eyes search
The wooden lines
And bloodless faces
Of saints and saints.

Are you home, lovely lady –
Are you home?
Your children, God's children
Wait without.
Without — a word
Without a sign
'Til the statues stoop to touch.

Frank Cavano is a retired physician who writes poetry when moved by powerful feelings, thoughts or images. As he describes it, "Most of what I have written seems to fit in the metaphysical/spiritual/inspirational category."

Frank currently lives in Bluffton, SC with his wife of 44 years, Carol. His sons and their wives have blessed the couple with four granddaughters and a grandson who are the light of their lives.

More poetry from Dr Frank Cavano

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