stale jokes, larkspurs, and tobacco
aching to kill the smolder
but only igniting a larger flame
flirting with death and the inevitable,
you confidently kick up the ashes
stirring the still aftermath
but in your unfathomable strength,
there are tears in your eyes
as if the Ohio had flooded
or the seven oceans swallowed humanity whole
but not yours
your morality poking through
ripples ringing around
just so you could defy the laws of fate
to encourage justice
as the damned get shot with the crows