Dear Father Military Coma
Watching your hands reach for me now
this boy no longer strapped by words
spit polished black leather welts of love
raising the alphabet up through my skin
no longer using a poetics of pain
to erase me quick after Saigon fell
on a runway in Tampa in my eight year old eyes
now 60 and red and worrying you
out of this hole in the center of my chest
you my Lazarus wrinkled in stone
I admit being tempted to roll you away
then I saw your hands not made of me
and knew I would be you someday.
Daniel Edward Moore’s poems have been published in journals such as: The Spoon River Poetry Review, Rattle, Columbia Journal, Glass Poetry Journal, New South, American Journal Of Poetry and others. His poems are currently at Mandala, Lullwater Review, WA 129 Washington State Anthology, Birmingham Arts Journal, Gyroscope Review, december Magazine, The Big Windows Review, Indolent Press What Rough Beast, The Good Men Project and Natural Bridge Literary Journal. He has poems forthcoming in Weber Review, 2 Bridges Review, The Tule Review, Scalawag Magazine, The Good Men Project and The Chaffin Journal. He lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. His recent book, “Confessions Of A Pentecostal Buddhist," can be found on Amazon. His work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Visit Daniel at Danieledwardmoore.com.