Yesterday’s War

by Helene Swarts

Heat languishes, tired of teasing
strength from stone.
Huge birds tear at the heart of memory;
every headline a crucible,
every gargoyle mute, open-mouthed,
tongues thick as plaster.

There is no line of demarcation.
This hour has been a long time coming.
Soldiers step everywhere and nowhere;
breath and feet rising and falling.