Last Hand Raised

no way to say it
stone-faced and austere
without defacing the edifice
where memories are stored
safe from fly-buy fantasies

too much contained
to trifle with words worn uneasily
too much to carry faithfully
in a battered frame
of a broken heart

no speech will bear
the marks of smooth chiselling –
the blood hammering
grooves in anxious axioms
will not hear the screams

it is time to depart
gracefully
time to declare
this is the last
hand raised in assent
© 21 July 2008, I. D. Carswell