Poem – “For Wartime Eyes” – Modern Romanticism – 2/27/2022

She runs, crawls
the same pace as her infant
that starves in her hand.
Counting the scars
embedded in the earth,
where faces sink in their tears,
where sickness
is a choir’s song.

Counting the stretches
either on a furthering road
or this mother’s belly.
Naming the marks
where a child escaped
either from her
or from its home.

A funeral, with the leaves
leftover from a resented autumn.
Much to be lost
with the curtains over flesh,
with tears to shoulder death
as a simple mother
carries a petal for its rest.

Frozen child
stares up, in the quiet night
to see a pair of flickering eyes.
Number, now
the nameless, countless
scars, in the earth.

Her eyes let loose the stars
to be buried with
her child, in the earth’s heaviness
of weight and cursed fate.

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