Jill Rees: Welcome Press

Brother, how much love
can we crush into this shelter,
breathing the last of the air,
exhaling laughter?
I can’t pretend we always smiled,
warding off poison, full of farewells
for those we lost, squeezing our eyes
to glimpse shadows of the sun,
but our love made me whisper
we have won.Strange wars with no enemy,
blasts that left buildings standing,
perfectly silhouetted in silent streets.
We scuffed our shoes kicking cans
hand in hand, children of
a darkened age. I peer
into your black eyes, murmuring
‘They were blue in daylight’ and feel
the dryness of your skin.

Our fate we always sensed
would be short and without meaning,
yet we fought against the blind
monopolies, slapped the greedy palms,
named the destroyers, their companies.
The chasms deepened, and still
we battered them one by one
into the darkness, without hope
but with a sense of duty
and out of our minds.

Ironically everywhere is cold
since the last of the ice melted.
Miraculous that we met,
our understanding complete, and yet
a division of flesh unsurmounted,
as you loved hither and thither,
in the end left here together,
our hearts and arms entwined
open to each other. The last sun sets
against the starless sky,
endearments clinging to life,
oh my sister, oh my brother.

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Tags: Art, Sky, Sun, War