Wooden Soldiers
Wooden soldiers of the enemy
stood motionless on our borders
rifles not sanded and
bayonets dull while
a full moon split the land
in light and shadow lots
we stayed on guard we kept aiming
what else can one do with bullets
missiles except count
fallen rose petals and
missed kisses other than take a picture
of the orange monarch
as it defines the perimeter
of dreams and the center of love?
Manolis Aligizakis 