Three

Did sweet moments turn
Into long lost memories
The grain of romance already
Sprouted and cracked a thousand buds
Our tacit agreements
To lift each others spirit
And the seat
And to trim the fern
Browning at the tips of its thin leaves
Promises that echo louder undone
Words when launched
Without meaning
Fester the lover
Goodhearted hand-holder


Slow soldier
a straight faced
Assassin

A squint
the difference
Between life
and a lost limb

Your trigger
aimed directly
Towards me

We're alone now
In the woods
And out of ear shot

No one to find us
Brick soldier
And his wounded
love worn soul