Rembrandt van Rijn, Dutch
What Cyril Liked About His New Hat Was That Just By Walking Around the House He Managed To Dust All the Ceiling Fans, 1630-31
Oil on panel
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/// In his breastplate he cuts quite a sight.
The whole uniform speaks of Dutch might.
Yet wet eyes and knit brow,
and his grey beard somehow
show a soldier now too old to fight.
/// The tall ostrich plume worn on the side
of his velvet cap speaks of his pride
(which cannot be denied),
yet it falsely implied
that he’s fit, into battle, to ride.
/// The firm set of his jaw’s indication
of a gritty and grim dedication
to a set of ideals
that he, to his core, feels,
yet those eyes picture past rumination.
/// It appears that, of teeth, he’s bereft,
but he does have a few of them left.
Horse and saddle were sold
to get two teeth of gold,
but he lost those while drunk and by theft.
/// He meets strangers who gush, “Saints preserve us!”
Their blind ignorance makes the man nervous.
He will wince underneath
while he’s gritting his teeth
as they always say, “Thanks for your service.”