for wayne karlin
evening.
i creep
into the tent
of saul.
for his sake
i have learned
the taste of blood.
in battle
i would drink his
and he mine.
we have become
enemies
yet here
he is an old man
sleeping
or my father.
i will remove
his armaments
his sword
his shield.
come morning
he will know himself
naked but alive
myself also. david.
the poet david.
