Nancy

No one understands why I
volunteer for extra shifts at work.
Why I signed up for night class:
Psych 101.

 

Why I wasted tips and weekends
painting my bedroom salmon,
then bought a gallon of raven,
because all that fleshy-pink
left me too vulnerable.

 

Not much time to write.
Too much time to think
because shrapnel rockets
through my brain, ricocheting
off work, school, bone:

 

Is God going to spare P.F.C. Phillip
C. Rose because I want Him to?