One Free Man

(I wrote this poem in 2003, just after the U.S. bombing started in Iraq. I offer it again now as another president lobbies fiercely to attack Syria on questionable grounds. Is it time yet to stand up to this ravenous beast? We can, you know.)

A stomach growls.

Claws itch.

A shrouded gland secretes

The acid that will consume

The newest dead,

Cleansing battlefields again

Of any trace of misplaced blood,

Of every hair untimely torn

From the trusting young,

Of every shattered

Fragment of bone

Until nothing remains,

No talisman for the mantelpiece,

No charred artifact to serve the

Fragile hope that

Grief might, this time,

Outlive forgetfulness.

Two back to back warriors,

Light and dark,

Good and evil,

Life and death,

Have marched away from each other

These eons of labored time,

But the earth is round -

The shape of peace -

And this duel has brought them

Face to face once more.

Now let this beast

Feast on me, grind its teeth

On the sun-white, sand-worn

Stone of my bones. I was the

First to die ages ago

Between dragon jaws and

I need no keepsake

Framed in crimson

To look into hungry eyes and

Remember my name:

One free man.

One free man.
One free...many.