This poem is a little tough to take. I have no idea what brought it out. It was written over two years ago and never posted before.
Spiritual Warfare
I've returned from wars
I had to fight, called in by
the old bloody songs.
We lost the battles
day after day, held to false
lines drawn down the land
of our familiars,
but the tunnel rats survived
their holes and I learned
to sense the worst traps
set near the dark trails we trod
as we searched for God.
My amputated
hand's ghost moves on its own path
as I write to you.
May 30, 2010 9:12 AM
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.