Call to Arms: A Poem
Bend that long arc
Late January
post-thaw: wind cold enough to
slice through ice-house walls
Bittersweet retreat:
braving Central Park’s vacant
walkways without you
Elsewhere (for now) the
Bored of Peace lets slip his dogs
of war on stunned streets
Against this crushing
Triumph of the Will ranks of
naysayers stand firm
Citizen-soldiers
sworn to yield not one linked-arms-
length of empathy
They also serve who
only stand at dark crossroads
and whistle warnings.
History is rife
with battles won and lost but
who bends that long arc?
