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What Happened to the Day?
'My child, what is that sound I hear
That rush of many feet,
I hear the people gathering
Tumultuous in the street,
I hear the people shouting
But I can't hear what they say,
The sun begins to set, my child,
What happened to the day? '
'I well remember waking, it
Was such a glorious dawn,
The clouds splashed red and tumbling
From Dante's palette born;
The clouds so red, it hurt my eyes
I had to look away,
Why look you so forlorn, my child,
What happened to the day? '
My memory has failed once more,
Again, it's taken wing,
You must remind these weary bones,
I don't recall a thing.
The clouds reflected through the house
Some sense of red dismay,
I ask you once again, my child,
What happened to the day? '
'My wife, my love of fifty years
Came out and smiled at me,
I sat her in her favourite chair
And then I let her be.
She doesn't always know me now,
Her mind has gone away,
Who are these men in uniform...
What happened to the day? '
'You keep reflecting on the blade
That's lying on my lap,
I must have carved the luncheon roast -
I can't remember that!
There's blood all over everywhere
But how, I couldn't say,
My child, my mind's beyond repair,
What happened to the day?
'I only acted out of love,
Whatever else is true,
If I could just remember
What it was I had to do?
These men are treating me so rough,
They're taking me away,
Your eyes are hard and cold, my child,
What happened to the day? '
17 October 2008
poem
by
David Lewis Paget
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