Visual memory:
A narrow, uninsistently
dapper “senior,”
felt hat, casual jacket
unassertive,
quietly walking, listening
(usually the companion
was the same lady);
this Residence
has its own Armistice Day
service: Nanos (air force),
with one (army) Major, two
engineering corps men
several nurses etc.,
in the front row, all — old. All standing,
painfully or not,
rigidly upright for
the national anthem.
At a Families’ Day
picnic pool
in some hostess’s
grassy back yard. Most adults
trying not to slump
in shiny patio furniture
observed, smiling to see
splashers and little dancers in the sun.
Nanos? He’d slipped away;
nobody had noticed
his little satchel.
The costume, when he appeared!!
In swimsuits, dripping still, gathered
the children, all aglow,
enchanted by his nods and capers
marvelling at his magic.
Nanos is gone
after four-score years. I see
a clown’s death has
a spacious dignity.