A very painful payment

You paused
caressing the letterbox
and thought what if
your precious sentiments
were somehow to be lost.

I stood behind you
watching tearfully
as you tenderly
kissed your heart felt payment
you had committed with pain
to paper.

The tip of the envelope,
poised; pensive on your lips,
finally I broke down in public
punched you in the kidneys
and snapped your walking stick;

apoplectic consumed by rage
I grabbed your cat smelling cardigan;
Waving, wildly shouting
I let out my vitriolic tirade:
“IT’S ONLY YOUR BLOODY GAS BILL”;
so loud I broke your hearing aid.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011

From the front

They’ll write of this in years to come
diaries and letters from loved ones
at the front
at the very beginning of war
this ideology lost
amidst tired grey wet endless noise
last moments spent among the already dead
the short lived mourn free
cutting among the fields
but for a few yards grace.

This time to sleep
to dream of fields not churned
disastrous incisions made from far away
have the deepest cut and cause
the deepest pain.

Letters hand delivered
the fear of the unknown, missing or dead
fear not death
for it comes to us all
but the fear of not living is hard to behold.

Copyright D. Archer October 2011