You thought that you could skip a stitch,
the thread provided free
You thought no one would ever notice,
just one small opening
The seam then weakened steadily,
threads loosened left and right
Excuses now unraveling,
Old Glory taking flight
The sinew given strong and taut,
to seal the danger out
But that one stitch you failed to close,
won’t mute the nightmare’s shout
Miss Ross is now in mourning,
as the stars have left the field
That one stitch you’ve forsaken,
—draining blood that wouldn’t yield
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
In Command
Horizon set,
all sails to run,
the tiller in my hand
The future drifting,
like the past,
—this moment in command
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)