"Where do we put our stuff when we're in battle,..."

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Bob Sward's Writer's Friendship Series

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Issue 12: The Necessary Ear

Issue 11: The Necessary Eye

Issue 10: Out on a Limb

Issue 9: The Missing Body

Issue 8: The Lily

Issue 7: Passages

Issue 6: No More Tears

Wanda McCollar

As Disguise

“Unaccustomed as we are to public…”
we'll just hide behind hedgerows
being careful no part of us shows,
(what part is that, my lord?)
We can make ourselves
less significant, pull in,
blend in ways unexpected and
our presence will go

What? Instead of hiding -
now we must go into battle?
We can't do that, we're
listeners of drum's rattle,
we don't like battle's
noisy bruises, blood shattered –
have we been trained for this?
Where do we put our stuff
when we're in battle,
books, clothes, shouldn't
I be dressed for battle?
I am naked.


The Seeker

do you know what this is?

I dunno.

Well, it's a pit
How could anything
be so perfect
as a plum pit?

Or any seed?
Think about pomegranates
and garnets, and grains of sand,
and numbers.

Think about the unchanging numbers
that make up this universe,
such as the mass of a proton,
the charge of an electron,
or the strength of gravity.

If there were the tiniest deviation
in the balance of these
unchanging numbers,
then atoms would not hold together,
stars would not burn,
life would never have appeared.

No seeds
no stars
no you.

So, what do you think about that?

I dunno.
          Can I go now?