AWOL

Fill my rifle barrel
with red roses,
beauty has crept
into my soul once more,
free these feet from
rubble, a seed
has sprung anew, the
blades hover overhead
petals to delicate to fight
give in and rest where
love has left

Grind the firing pin
and soften the heart,
if it cannot fathom the scope
of compassion

here we will no longer
measure time with sand,
our glass will run full
with the libations of life,
where the rebellious surrender
to sunsets, deep red like wine.