Saturday, January 10, 2015

Appomattox

Appomattox

I die daily, said Paul.
Dynamic is the process,

suggested Eruch, surrender chosen freely,
repeatedly at every critical juncture.

Yes, but surely eventually strung
as an endless rosary beyond

the clutches of time and self;
seamless union, a tightly clasped fetter;

acquiescence trussed up
and delivered entire.

I want to surrender like Lee at Appomattox,
stripped of rank and authority,

at the mercy of forces I have long opposed,
my world in dissolution and ruin,

blood and smoke, silence, cessation,
the last battle, last death over,

a reuniting, the cleansing wind above
unfurling our common flag.

O child of God, you want this war to be done;
to rest in the arms of peace.

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