This falling debris is your life

Borage Flower by Yummifruitbat (Own work) [CC BY-SA 2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons Accept This falling debris is your life; Too late to snap the hinge. Your children’s children will collect cast snakeskins along this route on which you will breathe your last Even with your eyes still open and your legs that drag on.

UXO

November punched its winds at us. Blind, we raked remembrance and glory. Blind grot from combat now in books is still our iron harvest. — Two sources were the inspiration for this poem. A friend’s Facebook status about the discovery of an unexploded shell in his local Swedish neighbourhood prompted me to look up a

Hope and Sky have disappeared

“Northern (Hen) Harrier” by Len Blumin from Mill Valley, California, United States – Northern Harrier. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons. a poem written in London on Sept. 26th, 2014 Sky’s signal stopped September 10th. Three days later, Hope’s did too. Birds of their kind hunt small mammals. Birds of their kind are