poetry by j matthew waters

counting down the days

I have reached a new beginning
and fear I’ve become the lesser of two evils

like a retired knight I’ve turned in my mace
and my sword and my suit of armor

living out the remainder of my days
on a pig farm or second floor studio apartment

on the edge of town where petty thieves
carry switchblades and take what they will

I have been reduced to a number
ticking down from one hundred and one

I sit in the darkness in the farmhouse
or second story efficiency

waiting for the sun to shed some light
on how exactly I had gotten here or there

december two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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