Sleep: Poetry Rehab 101

Poppy2004Sleep now, little one
In your makeshift cradle.

No blanket to warm you,
Only Belgian mud
caked on your clothes
to keep out the cold.

So peaceful, like you didn’t
feel a thing,
when the shell fell down,
ending your fitful waking hours.

No.

Too young to imagine
You are gone forever.

I’ll see you again,
I know.
But not yet, not yet.

When we both awake,
in some other, better place.
When our fight is over,
and the war is done.

Then shall we two meet again.

Sleep now, little one,
though you’ve not
seen enough of this world.

You’ve earned your rest.

Shoutout to Mara Eastern and her Poetry 101 Rehab as always.

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4 thoughts on “Sleep: Poetry Rehab 101

  1. So sad and so haunting, especially the reference to “little one” and “makeshift cradle.” I get the feeling the narrator is a mother reflecting on the loss of her son so I was pleasantly surprised to be reminded you are a man. Keep up the good work!

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