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At The Change Of The Watchmen's Shift
From my own post along these high, proud walls
that guard the safety of Jerusalem,
I had a rather fleeting glimpse of . . . them:
that lovely grandchild of king Solomon
and her new boy friend, here from Lebanon.
Across the road, a small ridge with a skull's
grim, deathly visage gave a moment's pause
to their bare footsteps. Hand in hand, they stopped
to stare at it. Goliath's own head, lopped
off by young David's hand, could not have been
as grisly. When they started off again,
two adolescents, very much in love,
were they (I wonder) sadly thinking of
the many lovers that Death has undone?
Starward
[jlc]
