I hope everyone had a relaxing weekend.
Sometimes, something just pops into your mailbox, and saves you from scrambling for a poem over lunch…
A colleague on one of my message boards noted today that the U.S. Consul to Russia for the past 3 years, Bruce Turner, has resigned his post. And to celebrate his time in Russia, he self-published a book of poems focused on his time there. I read a few of them. This guy is internal rhyme crazy! For those of you who enjoyed the Tiney poem and other tight-rhymers, I think you’ll enjoy this little history lesson. -ed.
DAUGHTER OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS,
If her distinguished father eventually
returned to America after being sent
as its minister to the Russian Empire
during the time of Napoleon’s thrust to
Moscow from which soldiers on both
foes’ sides died on the battlegrounds
before his folly was crushed, fate was
no less sinister with the diplomat’s sole
daughter, extinguishing her flame while
she was just an infant and leaving but
a tiny casket behind as a husk to rust,
alone in an ocean of foreigners among
the burial mounds of St. Petersburg.
Yet proof she was not forgotten by her
family then and those later begotten lies
in the quest, realized two hundred years
after at their behest, to hew into a stone
her appellation and lifespan counted away
from home to pave in longevity a child’s
passage despite its earthly brevity, if not
to undo, then at least to lighten the sentient
bones of the descendants of her progenitor
for whom her candle once burnt brightly
with such allure and the signal promise
a longer while to endure and accompany
her forebear on his path as history stirred.