You disappeared in the dead of winter,
but not like Yeats. No wife or mistress
were at your side. A hole and splinter
alarmed you, but did not distress.
Duty called. You would not part
your sculptor’s studio, the stench
of war not keep you from your art,
from rasps and chisels on your bench.
The Bolshies gave you a lead fan,
a spray of Marx across the chest.
They took you for an SS man,
and heaped your body with the rest.
20 February 2014
Remembering Rudyard Kipling (December 30, 1865-January 18, 1936)
The Hypocrisies of Heaven: Poems New & Old
Journey Late at Night: Poems & Translations
Tikkun Olam & Other Poems
Remembering Roy Campbell (October 2, 1901–April 22, 1957)
Remembering Rudyard Kipling:
December 30, 1865 to January 18, 1936
For Leo Yankevich:
October 30, 1961 to December 11, 2018
The Counter-Currents 2019 Fundraiser
The Struggle Continues