Lost Memories

The memories of
the dead survive…

He was there in Gaul
with the Roman legions,
marching into a winter
so bitterly harsh it
made his teeth ache.

She was there in Dresden,
when fire bombs fell,
coming of age fast
with horrors she
could not forget.

He was there in Dallas
when the President
was assassinated.
He died never telling
what he knew.

She was there in Florence
when Leonardo painted
the most famous
painting in the world.
She was his model.

…in dimensions
beyond our reach.

Appeared in The Literary Hatchet