Dear Liberty Mountain,
What’s with all the shotguns and shouting?
Dead bodies all about the stage
trying not to breathe.

Lips closed.
Remember to keep your fingers still.
Brave boys. Die with or without honor
for a few dollars. Same as it ever was.
Thought I do prefer these soldiers.

From one wing to another.
Blocked sojourns.

Not across real battlefields.
But fields for wild flowers.

I have seen a feather petaled passionflower in this crowd.
A bouquettle of oxeye daisies. For certain,
a black eyed Susan, or two. And so many
violets playing violent. Pretending war.
Besides, what else are stages for?

No matter the play.
Some form of makebelieve war.
Same goes for real ones.

So thank you Liberty Mountain,
for that lesson. That blessing
buried inside every
single one of us
within all of our art.

Dear actors playing people playing soldier,
no need to reason why or do or die.
Or anything like that, thank God.

Please just show up and play your part.