30 November 2010


Theek 11/30

If there are arrows – and there are arrows –
            arching from an unseen fortress

And I am holding my arms up to protect my head

If these things are happening – and they are –
            who is to blame

As real as any ice covered lake – my feet –
            splintering cleaving in spring

My feet against rock – if these arrows hit my arms
            and I suddenly have wings
            of wooden shafts –
            my feet are still bleeding

I cover – the ice melts – an until this second unseen
            flock of geese
            takes flight in unison –

They form a V and toss southward – they are –
            the arrows cease a moment

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