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by
Barb Adams
And so we wait
restless
try not to think too much
about what we just did
Some grieve the means
Some gloat the end
Justify it as liberation,
dear
Now they are free
to die in the dark
thirsty, dusty
The why was a lie
when that doesn't work
try another
As the reality of war
drifts off like a thunderhead
our gaze shifts
A blank stare, blink, numb
on to the next one
back to the busy
uneasy of the day
.
Barb
Adams, a singer, grower
and member of the web of
life on Vashon Island.
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