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She sits grim-faced in the living room, her bent eyes
upon the staggered lines of the cedar wood floor
where he stands half-cocked, waving his arms around
in the sticky air as if fighting off fierce ghosts.

All she sees are the dismal shadows of his flailing arms
as she grips her teddy bear tight, the smell of whiskey
hemorrhages through the air, her eyes trained
on the hardwood floor, her tiny back, stiff, waiting.

Soon it will get deathly quiet. She’ll know he is there,
she will feel his war… Continue

It was after we placed the flowers
upon the somber wooden frame,
when the fatal deed was done

and we’d slept in our rose-colored
beds prone on the complacent floor,
that we stood for something howling,

something writhing in our minds,
across our lawns
as our children’s feet scuttled past

the IED’s of cruelty.
Dodging the flowers in bloom
and painted of life,

we waved our wary-worn hands,
weeping to lift such pain
of wounds that kept crashing,

continued pummeling our shrugs,
our ‘that’s life… Continue