H. Nelson Fitton Poems

Best Poem of H. Nelson Fitton

Nursing Home
I often saw her sitting so fragile,
Condemned by the court of time,
In that place of broken bodies and minds,
Where all that's left is the dimming past.

Only the routine needs would interrupt
The solemn silence brooding over her
And would break into her reveries
That mourned the family ties . . .
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Flowers Plucked Too Soon
The canons have thrust their last fusillade
And the snapping sounds of rifles have abated
After dispatching their lethal messages.
Bodies, still strewn in their grotesque forms,
Profane the earth where once pristine fields
Flattered the eye to the far horizon.
Now a deathly silence falls heavy here
. . .
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