sewing in blood

if rambo sewed curtains
instead of his arm
what strength would he
place in the cotton,
resilience to tugs and pressure
from a climbing cat
or a child wishing
to see snow from a
winters window,
it need not be war
it need not be pain,
sometimes curtains close
out the things we wish
not to see,
but does rambo need
to sew them every time

poetry , poem


Borders With Snow

a storm brought cold,

an everlasting damp

to those corners you hide in

for warmth only to find them

not so secure,

they had climbed for an hour

back to the checkpoint,

road quiet

having to remain and

be vigilant,

headlights pushed the edges of dark,

the two soldiers moved forward,

bolts in position

rifles held ready,

far from barracks and city,

they could be trapped by the snow

that now fell,

old station wagon slowed,

pointing rifles

elderly man placed arm across the

chest of his wife,

simple protection,

one guard shook his head

nodding to the rear,

inside bundles of cloth husks of corn

simple trade,

snow began to increase

thickening on everything it fell

they could make it difficult for them

to prolong a stress and threat

but no,

cold quickly made them compassionate

and as the pick up left,

felt as though they had done right