In The Field

Poems aren’t always by appointment,

but, like wounds in the battlefield trench,

must be done quickly, without ointment

or sedative, sawing while teeth clench.

It is butchery more than healing,

amputations to stop the foul spread,

sutures applied to staunch blood spilling

before feelings are anemic, dead;

it is a frenzy of clamps and blades

applied in bloody barbed-wire ditches

while bombs fall all around from air raids—

calligraphy sewn like stiff stitches.

2 thoughts on “In The Field

  1. Very evocative imagery to describe what writing can often feel like. It’s not glorious, it’s a process that involves a lot of struggling that isn’t pretty to the mind, especially depending on the content. Nicely done 🙂


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