PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Eroding Memories



In 1922 he died,

the stone, the best his wife could buy

for Charles Edward Potts,

Alderman, Guildsman, Master butcher

beloved father and husband,

in fine white Carrara,

polished to a greasy sheen

like that of the bacon fat

pressed firmly beneath the weighing pan

the lettering, so sharp then,

a credit to any mason

this pillar, this man,

on the square

an invalid, who finally fell filling savaloys

with only a modicum of bread

he was victim, at last,

to the vile mustard gas.

The tides of war and London smog

Ivy, vandals, a passing dog,

All left their mark.

But the pernicious attacks of acid rain

etched and filled and froze again,

and came as quite a shock,

to daughter Jane,

a wordless block.