In swirl of broken lives in flood
She stands solitary island
In midwinter war eddy –
Frail fixed point in blue,
Bare-arms purple-blotching with cold.
My father saw her there,
And holds her in memory,
To warm for half century
Delicate figure etched in frost
Of Alpine snow meadow,
Where troop trains
Mass and pass unheeding.
No notice she seems to give
As if sleep-walking her dream of the cold.
Home and family gone and nowhere to go,
Not even shawl to preserve her,
And no one to offer.
And yet she moves in memory,
My father’s, now mine, now yours
Through iced decades circling,
Returning-etched emblem of era:
Palest, frail figure in blue.