Awakening from the dream of war

Awakening from the dream of war
in a moonlit field in a northern state,
flood of blue now overflowing.

The silver resolves from the shimmer
of a pale child hugging the blur of a goat
in the sweeping curve of the moon.

Her ocean hair falls across my face
leaves my mouth full of bone and ash,
a thin smile spreading into a wound.

Standing in the clearing still,
stumps remarking the hourly ring,
the gnomon impatient at the leash.