After the cease-fire, a child’s boot in the road. Just one. The news moves on. The boot doesn't. Somewhere its match is still on a foot or it isn't. Nobody reports which.
Author’s Note
Starting in late September, I will send these poetry cards every two weeks. This card is an example of what you can expect.
Each card pairs a short poem or prose piece with a photograph: images from my own backyard and travels, or ones I found that perfectly complement the words. The forms vary: free verse, prose poetry, haiku, whatever the image and idea needed. Some arrive as just a sentence or two that refused to be longer. You are welcome to save them, pass them on, or post them wherever they might do some good.
See the entire poetry card collection as I post individual cards:
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