Ace Boggess

all I remember though earlier it found an action plot
the what I've lost as surely as the why
it shifted into prayer—not mine
not my beliefs but some
I wasn't offended bothered angry
but spotted with easiness
as though I wore heating pads
over aches & wounds
as though all gathered in this group & I
were prisoners to the same Grendel-hearted warden
our deaths would follow or maybe escape
should the dream not break when it did
leaving me untroubled as a gray squirrel at rest
warmed on its branch by the sun