Love is a silhouette
And she dances on my shoulder
Stability is a shadow
And he likes to play a game
Insanity is a ghost
I'll never see him tamed.

I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.
And what did I see I had not seen before?
Only a question less or a question more;
Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.
Tiresome heart, forever living and dying,
House without air, I leave you and lock your door.
Wild swans, come over the town, come over
The town again, trailing your legs and crying!

He crossed a continent for love,
not knowing where
his journey would lead.

Along the way,
he marched into wildfires
to save lives when others fled.

He kept his family close,
along with those he loved,
in ink forever in his flesh.

And in the end it was his flesh,
riddled with bullets in San Bernardino,
that saved the life of another.

"I got you," were the last words
of a heroic life gone too soon,

"I got you, Shannon Johnson," are our words
for a heroic man forever.

I'm a murderer
I've stabbed my own heart.
I'm a thief
I've stolen my own happiness.
I'm a liar
I've told myself how much better things would be.
I'm a slothful woman
I fell asleep.
I'm greedy
I've eaten my own pain.
I'm hungry
Just not for sin again.

Guilt endures a weighty shroud
     first aggression taints our deed
          self-righteousness stains our trail.

I saw you today...
flickering image across a flat screen.
One hand clutching a precious doll,
worn ragged from trust’s tight embrace.
It wears the tears from your half lidded eyes.

Camera pans left revealing the crime...
a ****** stump where an innocent hand
once held a child’s inquisitive fingers.

I wonder what I would say
if ever forced to face you,
exposing my great shame.

Perhaps I would repeat the spin from our
doctors of the twisted and profaned word.
They preen with vain pride,

“So few are as you".

Just a casualty of a righteous war...
As if the crippling of even one
guiltless child was not one child too many.

                 one child too many
                 one child too many

          *Guilt endures a weighty shroud
      first aggression taints our deed
self-righteousness stains our trail.

©  S.Loeding
All Rights Reserved