247 Readings | 3 Ratings

From the Very First Moment

The way I’d hold your big hand
between my own tiny ones and squeeze 
to keep you put wasn’t nice 
and didn’t work. You were always gone 
as stolen money or an AWOL private
lept off the back of a truck,
too afraid of the war to really go.


Posted 02/10/13
Comments
Commenting has been disabled for this piece.