Grant peace
Bringing 70 faces to Vermont

Poem: letter to a war zone (for Big Tent Poetry)

דואר עקספרס / EXPRESS MAIL / البريد السريع‎


I can't be sorry
I don't know what it's like

my fears for my son
are commonplace

an icy road in the dark
one Jack Daniels too many

or a partner who hits him
or depression's slow bleed

not a person with explosives
strapped to her like a baby

or the artificial earthquake
of bombs falling

the closest he'll come
to his home rendered rubble

is if too much snow falls
and the deck begins to sag

forgive me
I don't want your shoes

I pray for the day
when you can walk in mine

Two of this week's Big Tent Poetry prompts are Write a letter poem to someone in a war zone or a revolution and Write a poem that starts, "I am sorry about _____." I had both in mind when I sat down to write this poem, though I wound up inverting that second prompt into "I can't be sorry" instead of running with the prompt as it was given.

The poem's title is "express mail." The title appears also in Hebrew and in Arabic, since I had the Middle East in mind when I wrote the poem and intended for the poem to be directed to "both sides." (The Hebrew phrase is pronounced do'ar ekspress; the Arabic pronunciation is al-bariid as-sarii'.)

I didn't record an mp3 of this week's poem because I have a dreadful cold (which I am hoping is not turning into a sinus infection) and believe me, y'all don't want to hear my voice right now.

Here's a link to this week's Come One, Come All post so you can see what others wrote out of this week's list of challenges.