Today's poem is by Tasha Cotter
To understanding the word enemy, imagine
The buffalo grazing while listening
For the stir of men approaching
The hill, sharpened flint in their palms
Each of them, ready to die for the same
Thing: the hush of a limestone cave,
The rise and fall of sinking creeks.
You can almost understand killing
For your home because it's a place
That claims you and calls you
Back. But what about the arrowhead?
Instrument in hand, the buffalo
Never stood a chance. Tiny monster
Just when you think you know what
To expect, there lies the incredible
Surprise waiting for you to cross its path.
Copyright © 2015 Tasha Cotter All rights reserved
from Barn Owl Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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