A Poem by Andrew Kreider

refrain

 

and all the trees are dying

sheered off at the roots

arms slung wide as if

running from a gunman

 

and down south a whole town is

hiding in attics from their

pride and furniture determined

that the past will not repeat itself

 

and I keep score as I scrub the floor

fighting battles over ground

flooded and drained a hundred times

watching my arms rise and fall

 

and the back of my mind is

flashing blue and white, pleading

shut up shut up shut up sometimes

a grenade is just ripe fruit ready to share

 

 

 

Born and raised in London, England, Andrew Kreider has lived for over twenty years in northern Indiana.

He has published two chapbooks, and has an active poetry blog under the title Penguin Poems. http://thepenguinpoet.com