Magdalena Ball #10: Sammy’s Grave

Sammy’s Grave

Tell me again

half in shade
time, your bastard monkey
fades to murky green
the bridge you left me

every day I get an email
sometimes two
a cry from the past
those soft planks
hieroglyphics
a message I’m still
trying to read

war trauma
sent from a front you never left
always vigilant
enemies are everywhere
tissue thin
the type crisp, sharp
ready for combat

safety is a scar
growing over graffiti
a broken gun, buried
in a deep grave
silvery over the otherwise
perfect skin of infinity
like a name change
a ticker tape parade

sea-stained eyes look into
the future
an illusion that worked
for a while

I taste it now
the sweet, tamped tang of fear
a jagged gift
in smooth wood
in dissolving bones
a language I’m learning.