War was
our first language.
When I sing
our common prayers
my body fills
with the voices
of our proclaimed heroes.
And our thunder god.
My spirit rises
on a sea of mead
and its waves
pound my skull’s shore.
A golden halo
wreaths my head
to light my eyes
and pierce
the fog of war
to illuminate
the skins
my sword
will brand red.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney
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Umflop 