May 28, 2016Four of Arrows
one: the seizing clench in your knuckles,
white, but you hold them still.
two: the man’s eyes when he sees you
shell cracked like burning revelation
mind flashing “home”—you don’t know
where, he does.
three: the shaft is flying, trail of lifelines visible like
smoke behind it, seen by you, him, and
who else?
four: in his chest, in his chest, in his chest.
victorious that settles hard and black
where you will kiss your children tonight.
later:
grey sky slumbering over your roofs and
cemeteries, though
it does not ask your name,
it shadows your steps
like a man
with no
reason. reason: rains
and winds will soak
you until
the earth splits and sieges,
fire and flood
forsaken.
from 2016 RYPA