Sunday Poetry: Jason Sturner

The Pace of Waiting

The sunflowers grow tall
in fields we don’t know,
leaning over the broken bodies

of men younger than the day
of men wiser
than night.

Soldiers inhaling
the light of sunset;
a reveille to the angels.

These men chivalrous,
sanguine; anxious to make proud
their transfigured fathers.

Unaware, it would seem,
of the world’s way of forgetting
and not forgiving.

These men... a man, dreaming
in black and blue. Wondering if the
blood, the pain, is a gift for his god.

Hoping invisible hands
will gather all his relevant pieces
and let his hour be peaceful.

That those he loves most
will conquer this distance
sit alongside him,
and carry him home.


Jason Sturner

(Published at Poets Against the War.)