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.
Yes! The ending lines! This is exceptional, Robert!
LikeLike
Thanks very much Tre.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re most welcome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow. Starts off kind of throat-clearing, sure, then it unpacks its punch.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Frank. I debated about deleting the first sentence, but in the end decided to retain it.
LikeLike