Heroes

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Heroes

And the rain, again, takes up our day,
folds it into threes, and watches
as the world wraps up its gift,
first at the edges, then centered,
with more confidence and force
than justified. Who will forget
the hollow horse and its stifled
coughs, the stench of men too
long unbathed and drenched
in fear. Or the small girl running
naked, arms outstretched, skin
peeling, her life become a litany
of pain embroidered across
the unfeeling sky. Do not thank me
for your freedom, the mortgage
and its tax breaks, your designer
shoes. We didn’t bleed for you.

“Heroes” first appeared in Blue Fifth Review. Many thanks to editor Sam Rasnake for accepting this piece.

15 thoughts on “Heroes

  1. Robert, this hits on all cylinders, especially here:

    “Or the small girl running
    naked, arms outstretched, skin
    peeling, her life become a litany
    of pain embroidered across
    the unfeeling sky. Do not thank me
    for your freedom, the mortgage
    and its tax breaks, your designer
    shoes. We didn’t bleed for you.”

    This is an incredible poem!

    Liked by 2 people

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