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Frank C. Praeger

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You Looked So Small

You looked so small the other night
seated among large men,
a person on your own behalf,
registering approval, quiet otherwise.
Your torso shrunk
after decades of impact, and after, after decades
what is there to remember –
a childhood treasured, adolescent regret?
How to tell what was less,      or what was greater?

You looked so small,
young people sitting, motionless,
filling the room.

We two sat opposite each other, listening to them,
voicing approval,
and you too remembered Kollwitz’s late drawing,
her husband and herself,
two pears, diminishing distinctions –
unravelling skeins of memories, befuddled motion.

Habits engulf us.

You looked so small,
but what room can hold us?
Have we not found the taller trees,
long descents, longer returns?
How many rooms are left to sit in,
how many people still to meet?
We have come from so many places, placenames cover us.
Young people are talking, can we hear them?
We are trying, their voices,
distinct,

yet, so distant.

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