The Harper of Lyra
By Malcolm Brodie
A Returned Man's Remembrance at a First World War Grave in Wonthaggi Cemetery
By Malcolm Brodie
A Returned Man's Remembrance at a First World War Grave in Wonthaggi Cemetery
Vega observed through an atmosphere of departure above the beach, a graven eye painted in moisture, upon the curving pillar of a harp whose long fingernailed player, in all probability blind, continues eternally at his art dripping melodies to earth from within eruptive fireballs of Lyra | plucking at strings amidst uproar of the banqueting hall, lists of guests tossing kisses and fruit. He was our grim or ribald reminder of the uselessness of printed prayers those read to us out of a manual of worship as we stood coveside dry weeping at graves from our Dead Sea discharging souls skulls underground sound boxes of the heart, and the music is ours |
Lyra, 'The Harp', a northern constellation seen from Gallipoli, containing 'Vega' the northern hemisphere's brightest star.