Walking in the winter morning, still dark and quiet.
Cold snap, and the medal I wear of a military saint
Won’t keep the demons away when they come.
I can’t call to that friend, can’t call her name
With faith or hope, though I love her so much.
Angels have flame swords that smite unbelievers.
James Agee Park, between the Tigris and the Euphrates
Might one day be in bloom and eternal sun again
And I can take her hand and love her with no fear of wrath.