On The Eve Of War

Whitetail browse foliage in forests south of Cleveland;
a woman rises early for the night shift at the Clinic;
the lake laps cold and steady at a shore that’s slowly healing;
a strange man oils rifles for a war that will not reach him;
many, many, sit at screens and feel themselves pulled in –
some will claim that to care at all is a sin;
and. somewhere, somewhere,
the shells of war are planted
somewhere, somewhere,
lives end sudden and anonymous.

Leave a Reply