Photography by Reka Jellema. Copyright February 23, 2015
Blessings
Our sons held flowers
in open palms
spun golden thread
from air so thin
it hurt to breathe
it in, and broke
the many hours
it had been
since schoolboys roamed
embattled fields
their lowered guns
directing aim
at borrowed time
at holes
fresh-cleaved
in garden beds
spaded for seed,
petunias, poppies
see them bleed
petals stain
the dirt, shoots of green
to salve the hurt
guns cocked
with dandelions
weaving tenderness
links in daisy chains
the blessings
of the benign
of innocence
uttering the names
of every little man
unhand unarm
offer peace
lilies and open
palms, amen.
Our sons held flowers
in open palms
spun golden thread
from air so thin
it hurt to breathe
it in, and broke
the many hours
it had been
since schoolboys roamed
embattled fields
their lowered guns
directing aim
at borrowed time
at holes
fresh-cleaved
in garden beds
spaded for seed,
petunias, poppies
see them bleed
petals stain
the dirt, shoots of green
to salve the hurt
guns cocked
with dandelions
weaving tenderness
links in daisy chains
the blessings
of the benign
of innocence
uttering the names
of every little man
unhand unarm
offer peace
lilies and open
palms, amen.
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