Photo of faded statue
Photo courtesy of

When we transition off this 

sphere, there is it seems 

somewhere for us to go.

Graven images adorn only

An earthly place, ergo

They journey ends

right here–

Some they are but hulks

of bronze or stone

Statues, plinths, betray

No feelings,

No fear,

Handy Andy Jackson

drove the tribes to

a barren waste.

His kicking steed and

cockaded face?

I once never safed.

No it has no place

In this growing boy’s life.

Likewise to shaggy

old Captain Pike!

We canna’ impose

From a fallen

Five seared repose,

“Appomattox” in Lyceum

Mourned the

Shuttering of slaver stocks.

Neither brown nor white

His skin was keen.

They dragger him off it seems.

But we of flesh and blood and Soul–

Our lives matter…

Entirely whole.