I am now older than you when your body was lost
between solid and liquid
as death courted brother and foe
what thoughts rose as mountains within you
yoke of war laying down the sun
dispossessed of youth
your name left upon my father like a mantle
to fulfill what you were denied
the aerial mission a second home, each victory
another way you could no longer return
how long did it take you to die
the sentence of your blood like Pontus Pilate
ownership forsaken, washed
in the bowl of sky of your upturned face
posthumously given a metal heart,
Tin Man, you are the deep
decorated by stars you will never hold
like the hands of your children.
***
Image by Hanjörg Scherzer from Pixabay
