by Rebecca Givens Rolland
Blunt the axe, carve out the weapon: make the war good.
What starts in the mind stays in the mind for good.
A pearl from my necklace, dropped string: you noticed
nothing. War on, you strung up promises, none good.
Middle of the night, packed bags: no man travels simply.
In spooled hours, I breathed you in: weightless, good. Continue reading