from Bella & Shirley a poetical novel by pd lyons


It Was Tilkon And The Others from the Lady Camp

 Still alive.



Around me.

Our women.

Our people.


Our women.

My women.


The ground gives beneath me

Their voices drift.

Their arms support me

My weapons

My gear


And I am carried

To one of their tents.

To one of their beds.

Sheets sun dried stiff sheets.

Sheets so white I must close my eyes

So, clean I must turn my face into their scent and weep no more.

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