Paolo at War

Ms. HaikuMs. Haiku Posts: 7,265
edited January 2005 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Paolo wakes up in hiding holding
paint brushes and mandolin in his hands.
He feels a few tight spots along his skin
where abscent time healed a previous death.

He hears the sound of children suffering.
He runs ahead of armed men while painting.
The shield he paints to protect the children
changes bullets to dust unnoticed.

Paolo hears an older man's deep voice,
a comfort, as it slides into his mouth.
He directs the children in their language
and tastes a memory of hazelnuts.

He draws weeds that ensnare the soldiers' boots.
As they fall down he feels his death renewed.
There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
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