To Dennis Donovan

One hundred years.
Eighty borrowed from
humanity unhinged.
He sits when he’d like to dance,
rises to his feet
when friends come calling.

I told you I’d be back,
he smiles.
The King and his queen sent
their greetings, invited him
to a grander court,
with heroes’ hurrays.

Where have you been all day?
he asks, later, your hand in his
after we made our way
through the town he liberated.
He rises to feet
on the spot his captain fell,

salutes his brothers and others lost.
War is no good, he pleads
to deaf ears, relentlessly cycling back,
to the rythm of fanfare, offkey
We did what we had to do,
he defuses, softy.

He lights up to every child
he gets to meet him,
We did it for them..
And it shows.
You’d bottle it if you could,
humanity restored.

They did it for us,
you know what you owe.
The friendship and family
he welcomes you to
is the icing on the cake,
sweet,                                gifts that keep on giving

no fork, no spoon needed.
He sits when he’d like to dance,
you watch him sing,
count your blessings
for sunny days.
I’ll be back next year!

you feel your hand in his,
for days to come,
keep smiling through
till the blue skies
drive the dark clouds
far away.