Cease Fire

Hey, let’s synchronize our watches.
Use the one on our ward’s back wall
with what the light is hitting outside
together with how far north we came
and how late we waited into November
to set our internal systems in place.
Let’s not wait our turn to be called.
What peace and quiet sounds like’ll
take over after the firing’s ceased.
Good, good. Arrangements’re made
as to who gets to make the final shot
aimed at who gets left taking it alone.
Make sure it’s someone innocent.

Write it down. As soon as wireless
gets restored, broadcast our pain.
We do this for a living. We laugh and
we cry and we hiccup and we dream
and get shot at for doing it in here.
Watch the second hand, you’ll see
it pause at each critical moment
when a truce is supposed to happen.
You say when. I’ll be busy re-arming.
Like how I was doing when you first
found me holed up in here, hiding out,
imagining a different December than
the one given us to close out our year.
That was a cloud, not smoke from a gun.
That was moonlight, not a bomb’s burst.
That was a lullaby, not war’s dirge.
Did I get it right how I was meant to?

I’m being encouraged to wrap this up
in time for their cease fire to take hold.
I was supposed to accept being attacked?
Oh. I think they gave me a broken watch
to keep time by. Hey, let me know when.



maggie and sara


About this entry