The Watchers
I paused on the bank of the Thames,
eyes raised to St. Paul’s across the river,
sunset clouds billowed like smoke
escaping the steeple.
I imagined the watchers of St Paul,
volunteers filled the high rafters
protecting British pride from
falling flames
that would consume the spire
I praised the brave and selfless acts
of those who
from evensong to matins
extinguished the blazes
of the Blitz
Back home in Tennessee, the Volunteer state,
fear and rage shoot through safe havens
of neighborhood, school, park, church
a small, frightened child, crying for her mother
Alone, I can watch but not extinguish
the inferno in the streets of the land
of the free carry, free assault, free pain.
I live in America
on fire.
*
~ Author’s Note ~
St Paul’s watch formed in 1915 to protect the cathedral from bombing raids during the First World War. The Watch disbanded in 1918 but reformed in 1939 at the start of World War 2. A photo of St Paul’s surrounded by smoke became a symbol of “togetherness, survival, and suffering” for the British people.
*
Cathy Hollister is a poet from Tennessee. Her work has appeared in Smoky Blue Literary and Arts Magazine, Eclectica, The Ekphrastic Review, and is the author of Seasoned Women, published by Poet’s Choice.
