lucifersmile

Wish in a war zone

Somewhere under the weather
snores our drugged hero:
a gladiator or astronaut,
lying in a fringedhammock
in his mother's garden,
waiting to be wakened
and loosed upon the world.
Quick, into my arms before
the next tremor hits.
Just beneath these monsoons,
an aurora borealis trembles.
Tucked into it's luminous
gunbelt, a change of luck,
an abrupt windfall tunes up,
just for us. Soon,
instead of zinging bullets
we'll find ourselves drenched
in concertos. I have no
authority to comfort
you, though I try.
If all this is to vanish,
if you and I are lost,
set loose, wounded,
to wander among uncomplaining
trees, fingering their lightly
haired, sticky little leaves,
then hand me my camera.
I must take pictures.
-Amy Gerstler