Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Sonnet #78

When the time comes to fight against my country

I suspect I won't do it. I'd gather my family --
I'd run. My loyalty to country as a community
Is not worth the blood of children; what polity
deserves the blood of wife and children?
My loyalty is to them. State agents may judge
That I had best go back and fight, but I am
A middle-aged man, never fired a gun, trudged
through no training of organized violence, 

If we wake in the dark in terrible fear,
If we tremble to stumble past force or resistance
If I must wonder if I will see them again, their stares:
What will they eat, will they be stolen in the night?
No damn, fool "country" is worth child, parent, wife.

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