The man squeezes shut his eyes
To hide from whom?
Every face is his father's.
Impossible.
In a vacant grey bedroom
Feathers float up
Away from past destruction-
It's not his war,
But he cannot escape now.
His eyes chain him
To some dredged up foggy past
If he could just-
But there are no answers there
Only thin dreams
Dreamed by men with closed-up eyes
And too-loud mouths.
His face passes the feathers,
Heart left behind-
It weighs too much to rise up?
Impossible.
