A New Kind of Battle

I recede my quaking flesh from wartime.

There is a new kind of battle,

where something thrives

outside the passion,

yet so close it hears the cannons.

     They sound in my ear when

car doors close.

Here I am safe, here I am lucky—

Yet we would all like to sleep

among the unidentified.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

css.php