War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele

war bride (3)

May 15, 2011

txt after you left,
mst peaceful, content, satisfied in years

Anglo-Saxon poetry in bed, your shoulder
a pillow against snow drifts, icy winds;

but war has squiggly lines,
your memory and duty try to march two abreast

but accordion style, expand, contract
like your lungs, your aching, chattering jaw

the crunch of gravel
the crunch of bitter blue pills

our hearts expand, contract
with confusion, glimpses of sky-part clarity

PTSD, the me-disease thief
is only partially to blame

this shitshow of yours goes back
a long, long way, years and years

still, when you kissed me,
asked me for patience

a future,
I vowed.

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