I read about the wound-dresser,
Counting limbs lost, holes in chests,
Heads crushed, summoning death merciful
Without reference I cannot comprehend
So I must invent a scene worthy of pity
Blood and gore and grime and darkness
Draw revulsion but trigger no compassion
Then I see, behind the verse,
Tears of families divided by death too soon
And I choke on the air around words too heavy
T. Weeks
(A response to “The Wound-Dresser”)
Indifferent towards the gloom of honest night
Blissful June rise, amber salutation,
Elbows its way around the blinds
Pursuing empathic shadows as they find refuge
Deep within the furniture and door jams
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Year That Trembled and Reel’d Beneath Me”)
Not reason have I to fear the falling
Unending tumble from no where at all
Headlong plummet with no floor to end it
Yet still I climb my imaginary perch
T. Weeks
(A response to “Not the Pilot”)
Ancient smooth log
Cut deep cross grain
Mile marker in time
1962, 1987, 2002,
Now
Friends and lovers
Lone travelers
Parties in motion
Scratching proof
They were here
Wandering the woods
Just as I
-T. Weeks
(A response to “As Toilsome I Wander’d Virginia’s Woods”)
A cake called Love
We made it tonight
Delicate surprising
For every occasion
-T. Weeks
(A response to “A Sight in Camp in the Daybreak Gray and Dim”)
The only lesson I ever learn
Is that the road is never known
Over and over and over again
-T. Weeks
(A response to “A March in the Ranks Hard-Prest, and the Road Unknown”)
Here lies a comrade
Faithful slain friend
Once blazing the trail
Then matching strides
Then leaning heavy
Now withered pale cold
Slain by the way
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night”)
Here we grieve the lost
By destination or by death
Drafting on a moment
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Come Up from the Fields Father”)
Oh my good Soldier
Valiant loyal exact
You have I remembered
Pride of service past
Oh my good General
How bravely I fought
Servant for the cause
Happy in your employ
Why then, my Soldier,
Have you defected now?
It cuts my heart to see
Such as you lost
For you, my General,
Will I always hold love
But now I see more
A new war I fight
T. Weeks
(A response to “By the Bivouac’s Fitful Flame”)
Awake in the dark
Fitful sheets wrinkled
Alien notions mushrooming
In a fertile plot of brain
Dawn bearing hope
Dragged in on new light
Reluctant relief arriving
But still no change
-T. Weeks
(A response to “An Army Corps on the March”)
Life Immense 