Revolutions

Feet in step
from bitter,
snow brogues, kick-rhythms
evaporate.

Replaced by
a shaved step-
father’s smoothed semi-
automatic

carpentry.
Palm to gun-
stock in your space; a
territory.

Still it was
rhythmic and
artful, kitten scrat
technology.

Chest rises,
inhale all
known knowledge, exhale
application.

Exhale wood,
breathe in black
powder from bore shells,
conflagrating.

Take the shot,
spark the pile,
improvise the piped
morality.

Thirteen years
of age and
planning a baby
revolution.

Lucy A. Evans

This is another one about my old friend Giles. I’ll leave you to interpret its meaning. The poem is syllabic in structure. Stanzas consist of four lines, the first and second are three syllables long, the third is five syllables and the last is a four syllable word. I hope you enjoy.

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