Remembering Gordon G. Nanos

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.