Incalculable chemicals take their daily calcium,
Get stronger and stronger on blood broth,
and the fields sleep.
The battle is tomorrow.
I run my fingers through feathered grass and
think,
How many hordes would maim and dismember
to choose what I do with my sculpture of bone?
The new war is personalized,
minute,
cerebral.
The chemicals leave trails
vociferous and victorious.
Miniature Moon 