The World According to Poetry #15
General Quarters
By Stephanie Wood Miller © 2019
Gray
Clouds
Against the horizon, again
Familiar
Dread
Of the old eruptions
He
She
The silent roar that is always underneath
And
We
Stop our ears, shut our eyes
Against
Them
And the reopened, reopened wounds
We
All
Assume our position
Frozen
Here
Between the night watch
And
An
Onslaught of words that tear
No
Hatch
Can keep us safe
From
Drowning
In the anger that is our only, ugly birthright