Crying On the Coward's Birthday
Emily wakes up laughing
but I see tears upon her pillow.
She's so far away from
shoulders and sleeves.
Remembering surrendering.
No more pajama tops
or secrets in the dark,
just a flame burning slowly down to spark.
Where and when
then and there
she's losing track of details.
She punches the clock
and puts together
pieces of permanent plastic.
She hears a song,
her strength is gone.
She lays down her munitions.
Crying on the coward's birthday.
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