BATTLE CRY
clouds clouds
the white white sky
bird call
foot fall
the sound of our breath
if only
a thin sheet of ice crosses the pond
fish in the warmest pockets of cold
nettle in the winter
like nettle in the spring
chickweed, rosehips,
wild garlic, dandelion leaves
there's nothing that isn't given
and yet and yet and yet-
the topography changes:
the oil slicked river,
there and there and there and there,
the fires burn
stay with it
stay with it now
self-made soldiers
a child for rent
I said don't look away
I said -
outside this window
hoof beats,
not even the distant hum of the city
a break in the clouds for the afternoon sun
if the wanting of it
just for the joy of it
hope with all you have
barefoot march through the soil
could deliver us
would you?
look both ways
step with me, that's it
hold my hand, together now
if air were enough
if we were only
what we were meant to be
don't give up
roads wind past empty houses
stations, shops with shelves brimming
open fields sheep grazing
cows, horses, plastic bags like kites in the wind
the dark curl of exhaust, and speeding by
a child's face pressed to the glass
cars tanks boats planes
these two feet once for walking
hope
hope
hope
hope with all you have
clouds clouds
the white white sky
bird call
foot fall
the sound of our breath
if only
a thin sheet of ice crosses the pond
fish in the warmest pockets of cold
nettle in the winter
like nettle in the spring
chickweed, rosehips,
wild garlic, dandelion leaves
there's nothing that isn't given
and yet and yet and yet-
the topography changes:
the oil slicked river,
there and there and there and there,
the fires burn
stay with it
stay with it now
self-made soldiers
a child for rent
I said don't look away
I said -
outside this window
hoof beats,
not even the distant hum of the city
a break in the clouds for the afternoon sun
if the wanting of it
just for the joy of it
hope with all you have
barefoot march through the soil
could deliver us
would you?
look both ways
step with me, that's it
hold my hand, together now
if air were enough
if we were only
what we were meant to be
don't give up
roads wind past empty houses
stations, shops with shelves brimming
open fields sheep grazing
cows, horses, plastic bags like kites in the wind
the dark curl of exhaust, and speeding by
a child's face pressed to the glass
cars tanks boats planes
these two feet once for walking
hope
hope
hope
hope with all you have
Rachel Lehrman