Love's Labour Fought
John Sargent
As the sun slips beneath the horizon, it begins again.
No words are spoken; none truly needed.
We each take our place, crouch down
Among our defenses, strengthened over years of blindness.
Armored in my ignorance, I stride forth
Beneath an empty grey sky, autumn's death,
Mirroring an empty grey world.
Across the field you stand. Like me
You are encased in callousness, filled with vitriol,
Armed with weapons forged during intimate moments.
A feint, a quick thrust; old scars pull asunder.
Back and forth we battle, old hurts our rifles,
Caustic words our bullets,
Driving us further and further apart.
A chasm too wide; a breach too deep;
No stile connects our worlds.
Participant and observer, I try to halt my blows.
But that me is three years dead,
The past preserved in amber.
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