a/n: This relates to an early scene in "Art for Hogan's Sake". LeBeau encounters a painting.


Theft


His cloth on an ice-crusted window is circling;

A central patch clears; he stares through, sees a crate,

And a painting, revealed, as the frame is raised slowly;

A jolt;

Recognition;

Then deep, burning hate.

~0~

It takes all he has to refrain from reacting,

By storming the office; denouncing the theft.

He pictures his Paris, her art and her beauty;

Picked over by vultures, till nothing is left.

~0~

He waits, while his cloth on the window keeps circling;

He can't look away from the painting; unseen,

As the General is boasting of priceless art thievery;

Contempt for French culture; uncouth and obscene.

~0~

The room is now empty; he enters it swiftly;

His throat is constricted; his eyes are too bright.

This painting should grace a Parisian gallery.

A disgrace, a dishonour; which must be put right.

~0~

No thought for immediate backlash or consequence;

The frame rips apart with one sweep of his knife.

His Paris has fallen to evil barbarians;

Preserving her treasure's worth more than his life.

~0~