The last stand
by poetrydiary
If now be the time, then let them come.
I see one among countless leaves falling; the serrated edge
and yellowing veins against the green.
I feel the tips of grass stems catch the leaf’s damp surface
and hold it, in the autumn light, above the hidden ground.
That same light on their spears, glinting and beautiful; precise,
and honed by craftsmen; strangers like me.
I imagine one among many, held up to the light – admired by the blacksmith
and his daughter; his life’s work, and love,
sharp.
I think of my children, at home, the lives they’ll live still,
laughing in the sun, which will rise again.
I think of leaves and spears and people, and the sun.
The buckle on my neighbour’s belt, dull iron across worn leather;
much used, and moving gently with his breath;
condensing in the air.
That buckle will endure.
Mist covers the valley, and their spears dissolve.
The leaves fall more slowly now.
If now be the time, then let them come.
If this be the place, then let me stand.
For now time stops,
and here I am.
————————
Running a small engineering business in England in 2012 is not quite the same as standing with Harold against the Normans in 1066, but sometimes it feels like it. Today was such a day.
Posted at Poets United.
poetry diary 
This piece took me to an unexpected place really–and I loved it
Some days are just like forever ~ My day was unbelievably hectic too ~
Love your reflections against the beauty of falling leaves ~
I just love the way this poem reads. This is a favorite line:
I think of leaves and spears and people, and the sun.
I look upon it as a poem of strength and determination!
I especially loved the last stanza… when time stops, a feeling most sublime.
Yes, if this be time, let them come, let me stand……….even with back to the wall!
Spectacular poem!
Great peace, I can relate to it very much.
An gorgeous poem–wonderful weaving of words! I love the tips of grass catch the leaf stem and the serrated edges, excellent. Really enjoyed this 😉
I liked thinking–as the poem began–that the narrator was speaking about and to the leaves which were coming down fast! but then the metal started to be real, and built to my 2 favorite stanzas:
“I think of my children, at home, the lives they’ll live still,
laughing in the sun, which will rise again.
I think of leaves and spears and people, and the sun.
“The buckle on my neighbour’s belt, dull iron across worn leather;
much used, and moving gently with his breath;
condensing in the air.”
Sometimes on the stage or in a house, I can feel what happened there before the present . . . when I went to Europe for the first time I feared entire histories running up my legs as soon as I debarked the plane . . .
So, here, I imagine your narrator seeing the past where it occurred and paralleling that to leaves, children, neighbor–maybe even adult against neighbor to protect innocent children, all in the mist of a last stand.
That first line drew me in and the rest of the poem was just as great. Indeed, let them come!
This is excellent. Very evocative and took me straight to an old English battlefield.
[…] wrote a poem about a last stand some years ago, when I felt my company was about to fail (I was wrong). I feel I understand the […]