Tessa, My Soldier Son Books In

The signals fired,
a sea of camouflage where
we congregated, waiting for
a green pick-up bus.

We ate lamb pie at a cafe
sucking at the air with
light whistling noises,
black boots in sight.

And so the ritual began, shall
be reprised on Sundays–
soldier son soldiering on,
mother so conciliatory.

Prompt:

Day 19

“Write a poem about a commonplace location. The poem could be about the local grocery store, library, or something even more intimate–like your kitchen or bathroom. Or it could be standing in line at the DMV or post office.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s