War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

lazarus (21)

Forgive me/they were delicious/so sweet/so cold.

William Carlos Williams

into their newly made bed she brought
a tray of apricots, hot black coffee,
stacks of butterless toast, two eggs,
orange juice (fresh squeezed),
some sharp cheddar cheese,
a big bowl of oats.

you could feed an army with that
the aproned woman in the coffee bar joked
as the lover piled and balanced a tray she replied,
I am. he’s home just half a year
weary. so weary. barely alive
a tour in Afghanistan, he lost five
bless him the kitchen woman said,
here, how about a fresh croissant?
some plum jam for fresh baked bread it’s still hot

the lover took the tray, rode the elevator,
woke the sleeping man, a kiss, a kiss
for each eye, he smiled, stretched,
his blue tattoos swam
his ink swam over his skin like dolphins,
thanks baby, I’ve never eaten in bed
he stretched, Lazarus stretched
took a breath, came back from the dead.


About This Page

The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled lazarus (21). It was posted here on September 05, 2011.

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