war poem

What may I expect, explosions

Windows artfully smashed

Birds thrown

Everywhere  why might I  think

The emptiness, this emptiness  here, now

Could explain

The door to my apartment being sabotaged

 

(Sunlight a pen on paper

My chair  it’s legs

Frontward to the sky), cattails

Move their heads  slow  slow seemingly far to the west

 

at

 

Wits end,

News on a page turning  truncated

Photos of the dead which

Stare out at me