I Touched the Hand of a Soldier Dead (with annotations) 2

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184 Nor like a friend. I dug a shallow little grave, A proper end. I said a prayer for the soldier dead No one could trace, And pulled some sampaguita flowers To mark the place. I never found the solider dead-- His hand--no more. I never knew the victory. But I knew the war. 1958 1958 My Animal: Accident at Pas de la Case [*Based on my ski accident at this slope in Spain. The leg wound was treated by Francoise Rivers, now deceased. I was skiing with her, Monique Malterre, and Jean Lozes (the latter two know married for some years). Jean, in his letter to me answering one of mine, referred to “those marvelous years: of skiing, when he carried no camera. I had asked for a photo for my Snowflakes and Steel autobiography. Buttoned animal of me tossed by ski lift high on the edge of mountain snow pawed at my quickening skin, tumbled my heart, tugged by body rashly steeply down the heaving slope against the edgewise pulling of my mind till snarling family of skis and legs

Full description

Poem written by Emanuel in 1958, typed. The narrator gives the unnamed and unrecognized soldier a proper burial. (Page 2)

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  • type
    Image
  • created on
  • file format
    jpg
  • file size
    634 kB
  • container title
    James A. Emanuel Papers
  • creator
    James A. Emanuel
  • issue
    BOX 5 FOLDER 12 "Whole Grain and Later Poems of James A. Emanuel (Annotated by the Auhtor), draft, part I, 1995 (2 of 2)
  • rights
    James A. Emanuel Estate
  • rights holder
    James A. Emanuel Estate
  • version
    1958