Sunday, July 21, 2013


Previously published in The Writing Disorder
A little boy six or so
Playing soldier out in the backyard
Builds his fortress with young green branches
Arching down from an overgrown bush
And a cotton dhurrie he borrowed
From the kitchen floor
He marshalls his troops to victories
Around the carrot patch
The rosebushes
The plum trees
And settles down in the shade
With a cup of the bluest Gatorade
He grows up and goes to war
His talents as a leader among men
And his courage and forethought
Earn him a place among
The best of the best
He surveys his accomplishments
And wants just one more little thing
The simplicity of that existence
Where one carried no train
Behind him
No worry
Before him
Because the little child within the man lives
                                                                                                                          ~ Sonali
Telescope by ~vladstudio on

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