Download PDF of this full issue: v51n2.pdf (30.7 MB) |
Bronze Star (poem)
By rg cantalupo
[Printer-Friendly Version]
I cannot carry this.
I am no hero.
When I hold this star
in my palm,
I feel the jagged edges
of splintered bones.
And I break,
I break like a bronzed mirror
reflecting shards of
a survivor's face.
I'm sorry.
I will not parade with a star,
and a red, white, and blue
ribbon round my neck.
There are stars still
inside my chest,
shrapnel stars within stars
flaring in my blood-red heart.
Their tarnished points
pierce through my skin
as bone fragments
as I wash off the blood
in my morning shower's
monsoon rain.
—rg cantalupo
|