War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

lazarus (29)

I gave you a chunk of apple,
some peanuts from my pocket,
dropped them into your mittened hand,

then a chickadee-dee-dee dive-bombed
from a frozen branch, landed on you,
pecked and pecked and pecked;

so tall and tired, warrior,
you stood so damned still,
allowed your brown eyes to inhale

peace landing with tiny clawed feet,
black and white, tawny feathers
a little black needle, pecky beak,

white Canadian December
that day by the frozen river,
so cold and pure, as our kiss,

and I beasted you you said,
though every one of your strides took two of mine,
12 kms of sweat, hiking snow and ice, you barely kept up,

I laughed, because on Ex, and in Afghanistan,
you were indefatigable, carried the weight
of three hundred men, and one lazy poet,

now I was carrying you, big man,
twice my size, leaning on me, into me, big bear
with soft tattoo’ed skin under all that gear;

the sun through the trees
cast wedding lace shadows
on the snowy trail I broke for you,

scarlet berries of the mountain ash
topped with fresh snow, looked like tiny sailboats
ready to sail away, take us home, to our warm, delicious bed.

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The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled lazarus (29). It was posted here on December 16, 2011.


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