Friday, April 3, 2009



We look upon her soft as grandma
Queuing us according to gender
Our shoulders, legs, arms straight and stiff
Awaiting the rush of approval from her gentle touch
To win the flag of her tender lips upon our forehead
It seems the prettiest girl usually held firm to her chest
That tiny banner of white with red cross centered in the blue corner
And it seems too the favorite boy mostly held aloft
The other tiny standard with stars and stripes
As we marched the four corners of a Sunday classroom
Singing praises to those proud and valiant crusaders
Off to war
Armageddon began with us
Equipped with the prophecy
That damns the Philistine’s trespass
Upon the steeple this grandma protects
With lips so soft pressing us into battle
With resolve firm as ice hanging from a frozen beam

No comments: