Dear Father Military Coma

Daniel Moore


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 

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