War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

lazarus (40)

oh Christ the mountain ash, the Rowan tree
how you missed those autumn red beads
banished from you after you returned
dead in desert boots from too much patrol;
and I recall her pecking, pecking, pecking
like a murder of ravens descend, strip the tree,
I recall her pecking at your guilt, your fatherhood,
pecking at your duty, she couldn’t leave you be,
she pecked with txts, relentless txts,
tortured you with her anger, her pleas,
bitterness, guilt, her “you you you’s”
you who was so tortured already;
in bed, you turned to me, “babe, what can I do?”
but I wouldn’t say, I respected you too much,
I respected you too much to tell you what to do;
still she pecked and pecked, wore your war-
weariness to the ground, the deserter pecked,
she pecked you down and down and down
until your mountain ash, your beauty tree,
was dead.

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The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled lazarus (40). It was posted here on March 03, 2012.


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