Ronald Reagan Dies, June, 2004

From childhood, engaged in striving and searching,
Finding his voice and his face before the mirror,
Moving from humble home to screen
Without pausing for education or formation.
What values attached to him were seasoned
With hardship and the humor coming from
Bitter loss of innocence.

Striving for just treatment of those in his trade,
Striving for fair treatment of those engaged
In producing images and strutting their stuff
Whether in person or through fine print
Of contracts and through underpaid exertions of stuntmen.

And the second marriage, 
Which hurt beyond belief. 

Searching for a vision of the United States of America,
And for the republic for which it stands–-
He turned his voice and his face, his disarming,
Charming, beguiling face, tilted just so
As to rob the viewer and listener of all desire
To disbelieve. 
Come advisors
And advance men, and charlatans,
And manipulators of constitutional doctrine,
And those who exhumed The Articles of Confederation
And sought to make them the true text.

Soon he was paraded as a champion
Of the true United States of America,
One who understood the origins
Of the great Constitution,
And who would cleanse that venerable instrument
Of all encrusting corruption wrought by misguided citizens.

Come the great speeches about war,
About walls tearing down.
Come the sleazy compromises,
Come the lies which haunt still today,
Come the pleas to return to the village life of long ago.

But now, beyond all victories and televised successes,
Beyond speeches, meetings and polished desks,
Beyond memoranda prepared by aides,
Beyond election night worries,
Beyond rouge and lights of televised and staged debates.

Comes the funeral cortege, moving by a pace dictated by Rome itself,
Moving through the District of Columbia,
Moving slowly and with a graciousness beyond life,
Moving slowly toward the grave.

____________________________________

 ©2004 James Bolner, Sr.
 Baton Rouge, LA